Remus and the Marauders
by ssvensson429
Summary: In no particular order, little glimpses (one-shots) into the lives of the Marauders, centered mostly around Remus: discovering his secret, passing notes, moonlit romps, getting into trouble and more. Read & review to let me know what you want to see and disclaimer: none of these characters are mine. T, only mildly suggestive themes. Canon-compliant.
1. Is he dead?

_1972_

* * *

"Do you reckon he's dead?"

"_No_, you prat. Look, he's breathing. See how the blanket goes up and down?"

"…Well he looks a bit dead, doesn't he?"

"Peter has a point, Sirius. He does look…well, awfully terrible."

"Oi! We didn't come here to poke fun at Remus, we came to _tell him_."

Remus listened intently to his friends, feeling colder and paler than usual. They _knew_. It was the moment he had dreaded the most since coming to Hogwarts. He hadn't intended on making friends—but the feeling of belonging was addictive. Though he tried to send them the other way, Remus couldn't seem to actually succeed. It was too good to be true, he thought, that he would have friends. How could he give that up?

"Do you still think we ought to?" James asked. "He looks so…tired. I don't want to disturb him."

"He'll never tell us the truth otherwise," Sirius explained. "He'll give us some more nonsense about his mum or something, which we know is bollocks…_he's_ the one who's sick."

Sick. Not a monster, not a Dark Creature, but sick. Remus felt a flutter in his stomach. Could his friends accept him, even after knowing what he was?

"It'll be easier," Sirius began softly, "Not having to lie to us. Poor bastard, imagine what he's been going through all this time."

"You're right, it ends now," James stated confidently. "And we're loads better at lying than he is, anyway. I'm sure he'll be glad for the help."

"Do you think he'll still help me with my charms paper?" Peter squeaked.

"Yes."

Remus fluttered his eyes open, managing to croak out a single word. He felt the gaze of his friends bearing down on him, even in the dimly lit ward. "Not today though…Likely tomorrow…" Remus said hoarsely, sitting up slowly as to not disturb his nearly-healed cuts and scrapes.

"Peter!" Sirius whisper-shouted. "You git, Remus has more important things to do than your bloody essay." Peter, chastised, fell silent, and it was James who took the lead.

"Are you alright, mate? You look bloody awful…"

"Nearly dead?"

James' eyes widened. So Remus _had _heard… "I'm sorry Remus, we hadn't thought…I mean, you looked…how long have you been awake."

"Long enough," Remus put simply. Long, drawn out answers were difficult. "You don't…have to," He said softly. Sirius cocked his head to the side.

"Don't have to what, mate?"

"Be my friends anymore," Remus whispered, feeling his eyes grow hot and heavy, hoping the tears wouldn't come. He wouldn't blame them; they were already far more civil than most would be in their shoes.

"Why would…what?" Sirius shook his head. "Because of—"

"A furry little problem?" Quipped James. "You've got to be thick to think we'd…Well, I can't even say it, it's that unbelievable."

"It's not," Remus protested weakly. "Most people—"

"And you think we're most people?" Sirius asked, incredulously. "Merlin's beard Remus, if we can be friends with a dullard like Peter—"

"Hey!"

"—Then being friends with a werewolf should be a walk in the park."

Remus expected a flinch. _Werewolf_. No one had said it up until now, but there was no denying what he was. "How…how long?"

"Months," said James. "We tried to get you to come out with it, kept asking you questions about your mum—"

"—and kept track of all your excuses; dragonpox twice in a row? We aren't daft, Remus—"

"But you were so guarded," James whispered. "And we realized that you'd never tell us, and that all we were doing was pestering, so we had to come and talk to you somewhere you couldn't deny it," James finished, looking at Remus kindly. "We just want to help."

Help? Remus couldn't believe it. Not only did they want to be his friend…they wanted to help?

"Help," Sirius stated matter-of-factly, as if he knew what Remus was thinking. "We'll do anything. We've been going to the library non-stop, trying to read up on ways we could help, but there isn't much literature out there on how to do so—"

"You…read?" Remus sputtered out, then his eyes widened. He hadn't meant for it to sound so harsh. He was in shock, still trying to figure out how he was lucky enough to still be in his bed, much less have friends who wanted to _help_, and he felt like he had blown it. But James chortled, Peter snickered, and even Sirius smiled.

"It's not that hard to believe…but yes, we _read_ for you, which is not something I'd like to make a habit of," Sirius said pointedly. "We're not going anywhere, you know," He started, sensing Remus tense up. "You've got the cleverest little quips, if you stop making fun then James' head will grow too large—"

"Hey!" James retorted.

"—And Merlin knows what we'd do with him then. We're still your best mates, nothing is going to change." Sirius smiled softly. "No more secrets."

Remus nodded slowly. "No more secrets…" He whispered, chapped lips forming into a small smile. "You must have questions?" Remus asked, voice cracking.

"Oh, loads," James confirmed. "But you sound dreadful, it's nearly three in the morning, and Pete looks about ready to fall asleep so I think we best get going." Peter nodded in affirmation.

"So we'll get around to that when you're a bit less peaky," Sirius added.

Remus would've chuckled if he didn't think it would lead to a fit of coughing. Peaky was one way of looking at it. "Thank you," He said softly, gazing at his friends. "Thank you for everything."

"We're your friends, Remus," James stressed, "It's nothing. Rest. You need it," He pointed out truthfully. The three boys disappeared under James' invisibility cloak, and Remus watched as the door to the ward seemingly opened and shut by magic. _It isn't nothing,_ the boy had wanted to say. _It's everything._


	2. Peachy

_1972_

* * *

"Well look who's back! Don't you just look peachy."

"Absolutely radiant, Remus."

"Welcome!"

Remus Lupin smiled. "Thank you guys, it's good to be back." Whether or not he looked radiant…Well, that was another story. He was just happy his reunion with his friends, for the very first time, needn't be tied to uncomfortable hiding and lies. Sirius Black jumped off the bed eagerly, holding in his hand a bit of parchment.

"We know you just got back, but we've been so bloody curious—"

"Sirius!" Yelped James. "Mate, he's been back for a minute, let him—"

"But James! Half the questions on this list are yours!"

"It's okay," Remus interjected. "Really, you've all been more than patient and more than kind." He placed his bag of schoolwork on the carpet and took the parchment from the grinning Sirius. Some of the questions were easier than others: for example, _no_, he wasn't abnormally hairy, and _yes_, he did transform every full moon. "How does it…_feel_?" Remus waved the parchment. "I'm going to need a bit more to go off of here." Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Peter, we told you that was a dumb question."

"But you only gave me five! It's not fair," The small, rotund boy protested. Remus snorted. Even with something as serious as his being a werewolf, his friends were still behaving like twats. "I just wanted to know what it was like," Peter said softly.

"Bloody awful," Remus replied, slowly sitting down on the bed. "I wouldn't recommend it." Part of him couldn't believe he was having this conversation. More than that, he couldn't believe it felt somewhat normal. Perhaps, with the fear of being cast away gone, Remus could find some normalcy in his abnormal condition. Sirius whacked Peter on the back of the head, hopping on the bed next to the boy as James sat next to Remus.

"Is this okay, Remus?" James asked. "I mean, we're bloody curious, but we don't want to…I don't know…say anything, erm—"

"I'll let you know," Remus said with a smile. "Really, you all of been kind when—"

"Oi! We get it, we're wonderful," Sirius drawled, "But if you call us kind one more time…"

"Alright," Remus conceded. "Let's start at the beginning, shall we?" Remus pursed his lips, looking to see where he could combine some of the simpler questions into one. "Well, this should cover articles—"

"—articles, bother," sighed Serious. "You sound like a professor—"

"Articles one, five, ten and twelve," Remus finished, ignoring Black. "I was nearly five, when I was bitten. My parents won't tell me much, but I was asleep in my bed," he said softly. "I don't remember it really, and I don't remember much from before the…ah, incident." Probably for the best, Remus could have added, but he didn't want to upset his friends.

"Merlin's beard…_four_?" James said, shocked. "Mate, that's awful." Remus shrugged.

"It's all I know." The boys were a bit silent. _Clearly, I should break this up into lighter and heavy chunks_, Remus thought to himself. "Now, some of these questions are really quite ridiculous—"

"—Peter," coughed James.

"Hey!"

"For example…No, I'm not colorblind, nor do I have razor sharp teeth, well," Remus paused, "Normally. And yes, I get ill when I eat chicken that's a bit off." Remus could've sworn he heard the exchange of a galleon or two between hands. "But yes, it hurts," Remus said, his voice a bit pained. "A bit before, during, and after transformation." He scanned the list further, seeing the concern in his friend's questions quite apparently. "It's partially from transforming, it's not a particularly graceful process, but as you all saw…it's what I do _during_ the full moon. When I…When I transform, I take precautions. Lock myself up, keep hidden, so that I don't escape and hurt anyone. But werewolves are violent," Remus said, a bit breathy. "If there's no one around to hunt, we take it out on ourselves. What you saw is…self-inflicted. I'm lucky, I have Madame Pomfrey and a whole slew of magical spells to keep me from escaping, and the shack is actually quite nice compared to—"

"Wait," Sirius interrupted. "You said shack. You don't mean to tell me you get locked up in a shack?" He asked incredulously. "Like some sort of ani…" Sirius stopped himself. The pained look Remus gave him ended that sentence. _Like an animal_, Sirius was going to say. The boys fell a bit silent.

"The Shrieking Shack," James said at last, breaking the silence. "You transform there. The noise—"

"Is me," finished Remus, speaking softly. "Dumbledore encouraged the rumors of it being haunted. It _is_, in a way," Remus mused. "And I'm not chained. I can move around and all, but it's not the same as an open forest, and I get frustrated, want to escape, want to…" Remus looked up to see the pale, shocked voices of his friends. He had gone too far. This was it, his friends were going to abandon him now that they knew the full truth. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I thought this was alright, I'll—"

Remus was cut off as Sirius nearly lept off the bed to hug him.

"All this time," Sirius whispered, pulling away. "All this time, you were in pain and we never knew." Sirius locked eyes with Remus, and the young werewolf saw tears forming in his friend's eyes. "I'm so sorry Remus," Sirius said simply.

"I'm sorry too," squeaked Peter.

"But it doesn't have to be like this anymore," James began. "We can find a way to help you, make it so that you don't…" James thought back to that night they saw him in the ward. "So that you're _safe_. We could let you roam and—"

"NO!"

Remus stood up, shaking his head. "No, you don't understand," He whispered. "I'm a _monster_, don't you get it? There's no helping me. I can never be let out of the shack. A werewolf is not a normal animal. I wouldn't recognize you. My only purpose would be to find you and _hurt_ you." Remus could feel his eyes well with tears, and he sniffled. "Please, please you can't be near me, _ever_, during the full moon. I could never forgive myself."

James grabbed Remus' arm, drawing him back to a seat. "I'm sorry, Remus. I—I didn't know. I promise, we won't be with you when you transform.

"But you're not a monster," Sirius said flatly. "I never want to hear that word again, alright? You're Remus. You couldn't hurt a fly. You won't even make fun of Petey, which is something we all do." Peter simply nodded.

"It's a furry little problem," Sirius said with a small smile. "Repeat after me—"

"—_Sirius_," Remus protested,

"_Remus_," Sirius retorted.

"It's a furry little problem," Remus whispered, wiping at his eyes. A furry little problem. Remus said it once more in his head, his lips curling into a thing smile. "It's a rather mild way of putting it," He said with a slight snort.

"Oi," James said, "Are you sure you aren't a were_pig_?"

This resulted in a fit of laughter amongst the boys, Remus laughing loudest of all. The parchment fell to the wayside, as the boys instead asked Remus the most ridiculous questions they could think of.

"Reckon you're as skinny a wolf as you are a boy?" Quipped James.

"Are you good with fetch?" Sirius asked, which led the boys to a whole discussion on how wolves may or may not be dogs, begging the question 'How do you know you're not just a dog?' from Peter.

Eventually the boys learned the answers to some of their other questions—as did Remus. For example, it was discovered just how moody Remus could get during the days leading up to the full moon when Peter spilled ink on his Transfiguration essay. They also learned how to recognize when Remus needed a little help, even if he wouldn't admit it. Eventually, Remus learned he didn't have to worry, ever, about his friends leaving him—and Sirius Black had never been more thankful in his life to not hear the word 'thanks.'


	3. A Sirius Sleepover

_1973_

* * *

Remus Lupin had never had a sleepover. His stomach had been in knots all day over the situation. First, there was the state of his parents to worry about. They hadn't stopped running around the house all day.

"Lyall, the flowers—"

"In the vase on the mantel, Hope. Brownies! Brownies are—"

"In the oven, love."

If Remus didn't know better, he would have guessed his parents were expecting Albus Dumbledore himself. Instead, his parents were going through painstaking lengths to make their house presentable for a couple of thirteen year old boys. Remus couldn't help but feel guilty. He had sprung this upon his parents rather last minute (as Sirius had not told Remus about the 'set in stone plan to sleepover while James and Peter were out of the country'), and they were so very excited for their son to have friends that they wanted to make everything _perfect_.

"Remus dear,"

Remus saw his mother descend from the stairs with the broom. She was a small, slender woman, with wispy, ashy brown hair like her sons. Her pale blue eyes were in an almost constant state of fret, and today was no exception.

"Mum?"

"Your friend Sirius, is it vanilla drizzle he likes, or butterscotch on his brownies? I got chocolate for you, of course…" She asked, concerned. Remus smiled.

"Believe it or not, we don't talk much about drizzles. Anything will be fine, mum, Sirius is very kind."

"Extremely kind," Hope said fervently. "Your boys, all of them…I can't thank them enough. Remus, they understand? We cannot thank them enough?" Remus, uncomfortable, looked down at his feet. Seeing this, Hope sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. We're just..."

"I know."

The second reason Remus' stomach was in knots was due to the state of the house. It was clean—meticulously clean, Hope made sure of it. Remus was just worried it was a bit dull, to put it plainly, as compared to the Black's estate. Sirius lived like royalty compared to him, or so he felt, and didn't want him or (or any of his other friends) to look down on his family. They were perfectly happy and healthy, most of the time, and Remus loved his parents very much. He also knew they wouldn't be so poor if it hadn't been for his condition, and he couldn't blame them at all. He also didn't know how to explain his worries to his parents—they were wrecks enough as was.

It really was a nice house: The Lupins had a little garden in the backyard, and a lovely little breakfast nook that overlooked it. Hope's prized possession, a grand piano, was featured prominently in the den. However, the couches and chairs were nearly falling apart, the whole house ached and creaked like it would fall down within the hour, buckets set up to capture leaks…it was home to Remus, but would Sirius see it that way?

But the third and final reason Remus' stomach was in knots was because he didn't know how to host a sleepover for Sirius Black.

Remus was reading in the den when he heard the fireplace.

"Mum! Dad!" He called out. "He's here!" Remus had barely finished calling up to his parents before they came running down the stairs. Lyall Lupin was the first down. Like his son, he was slender and all limbs, freckles dotting his cheeks. His amber eyes sparkled with excitement at the prospect of meeting his son's friends—standing out nearly as much as his rather angular nose. Hope raced through the kitchen, taking the brownies out of the oven, before standing next to her husband. Out of the fireplace stumbled _the_ Sirius Black.

"Hello, Lupins!" Sirius said with a grin. "I'm—"

"Oh you must be Sirius!" Hope chirped. "Oh, Remus has told us so much about you. Come here!" Before Sirius could even set down his bag, Hope Lupin had him wrapped up in a hug.

"Er, hello—"

"I hear you've got a thing for motorbikes!" Lyall interjected. "Very cool. 'Wicked,' that's the term, right Remus?"

"I, er—" Sirius began again.

Remus coughed. He hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise, and need he remind his parents, Sirius had come to see _him_. Lyall and Hope turned towards Remus, a look of understanding on their faces.

"Right, you boys get settled in. Be down for dinner!" Lyall smiled and Hope waved at the boys as Remus led Sirius up the stairs to his room, stairs creaking at every turn. They had gone crazy, Remus thought to himself. His parents were absolutely bonkers.

"Remus?"

The young werewolf sighed. "I know, I know, I'm sorry—"

"Sorry?" Sirius nearly sputtered. "Merlin's beard Remus, why are you sorry? Your parents are absolutely you, it's hilarious." Remus stopped in his tracks.

"They're…what?" He said weakly.

"You're kidding me," Sirius began. The look on Remus' face implored Sirius to continue. "Well, for starters, you're the spitting image of your mother—nearly, of course, you aren't a bird. And your dad, he's got the same way of…what's it called…the thing you do with your arms.."

"Gesticulating?"

"_Yes_, that! I mean, I can't wait to tell the others. I've really gone into the jungle and found the origins of our dear Moony." Remus rolled his eyes.

…

After putting Sirius' things in Remus' room, the two boys came down for dinner. Hope was finishing setting the kitchen table.

"Oh, boys! I was just about to call you down. Now, Sirius dear, Remus didn't seem to know what you like to eat—"

"Mum!"

"—So I hope you like it all the same!" Hope finished placing a bowl of mashed potatoes on the table. The table was littered in food—Remus had never seen his parents prepare so much—and he couldn't help but wonder what it cost them. Still, his other looked absolutely joyful, so Remus decided it was likely worth it. Besides the potatoes, the Lupins prepared green beans and carrots, and had made Remus' favorite dish of all: lamb chops.

"Please, boys, sit," Lyall said with a smile.

From across the table, which looked like it would nearly fall over, Lyall pressed on.

"Sirius, thank you so much for coming to our home, for seeing Remus. It means so much to us, that you are fine with…that it is okay that—"

"Really, Mr. Lupin," Sirius interjected. "I'm happy to be here," He said with a smile to Remus, whose ears began to turn a bit pink. Hope squeezed Lyall's hand, turning to Sirius,

"So, Sirius, Remus tells us you're from London! That must be exciting, yes?"

"Well, yes and no," Sirius began. "London itself is great—my family though, a bunch of elitist twats really—" he stopped to chomp on a lamb chop, "Nothing like you lot here." Lyall nearly looked like he would choke.

"Oh…goodness, Sirius, I'm sure they don't mean to be, as you say…" Lyall drifted off, "A bit traditional—"

"Oh, no Mr. Lupin, they're twats, really. Horrible people. But that's alright. Moony and the boys are all the family I need." Hope Lupin look like she had swallowed her tea through the wrong pipe. Remus should've known bringing Sirius Black home was a rotten idea.

"M-moony?"

"A nickname," Remus said softly, "A nickname, that's all Mum." Sirius looked flabbergasted.

"Oh, Merlin…Lupins, I meant no offense. It's the best one we settled on," Sirius explained. "First there was Hairy—"

"I vetoed that," Remus alerted his parents quickly.

"Then we tried Loony Lupin—again, no offense Lupins—"

"Oh," Lyall began, "None taken—"

"And there was Furball, for a day, but we decided that wouldn't work—"

"Because it's cat spit-up, Sirius," Remus muttered.

"And there were a couple of others but it was really no competition—Moony was the best," Sirius finished, sticking at least five green beans into his mouth.

"Oh, Remus, a nickname! Oh that's so cute—"

"_Mum_!"

"And it sounds so like that stuffed cow you had—oh what did you call him—"

"Oh that was _Mooey_, dear," Lyall chimed in.

"_Dad_," Remus protested, his ears turning red.

"_Mooey?!_" Sirius nearly shouted. "Oh Moony, this is the best news of all! Lupins," Sirius pleaded, "Please tell me you have pictures of little Moony and his Mooey."

"I'm not sure we have any of those pictures," Remus lied.

"Oh of course we do!" Exclaimed Hope. "Oh I love showing off my baby Remy—we have the most adorable picture of him in his little 'summer outfit,' naked as the day he was born, with only a—"

"Mum," Remus groaned. Hope gave her son a smile. She looked so happy, Remus thought, meeting one of his friends, seeing how much she cared. He relented. "Oh, alright."

"Baby Remy, oh Moony…" Sirius whispered, looking positively mischievous. "Lupins, where might I find pictures of our dear Remy?"

"Oh, in the closet behind you," Lyall said, off-handedly. He was more interested in his lamb-chops at the moment. Sirius got up and began to open the door behind him.

"Rather heavy for a—"

"Oh no, Sirius, don't…" Remus started, but it was too late. Sirius opened the cellar door, and his face fell. Blood lined the inside of the door and stained the walls. A rather ghastly scent emanated from below. There were claw marks, _everywhere_, all along the walls, the stairs—even the inside door handle, as if someone had been trying to turn the knob with a paw. Sirius stood still, in shock, so Remus stood up and closed the cellar door for him, reaching instead for the closet. Silently, Remus pulled the dusty, leather bound photo album off the top shelf and held it close, sitting down. The table was quiet, as the three Lupins looked up at Sirius Black, waiting for something.

"Oh, Lupins," Sirius began softly, "I'm so sorry. Here we were, having a grand old time with this lovely feast," He said, pausing to look at Hope, "And I go and ruin it all—"

"No, Sirius," Hope said calmly. "You didn't ruin anything, really," She insisted.

"It's a part of life," Lyall stated simply. "We're just thankful you are able to accept it."

Sirius turned to Remus, sitting down. It made sense now. All the times Remus was afraid to stand up to his friends first year, scared that the slightest quip would cause them to flee. All the bloody _thank you's_, simply for being his friend. He, like all kids, mirrored his parents. The Lupins simply had a very difficult time believing that anyone could be decent to Remus.

"No, that's okay Lupins, I did ruin the atmosphere a bit. It's okay," Sirius emphasized. "I mess up quite a bit at school—Remus calls me off on it, and for good reason, because that's just what friends do. I'm just as thankful to be friends with him—you really do have a lovely son, incredible reall—"

Hope Lupin began sobbing.

"Mum," Remus called out. "Mum, what's wrong?

"Nothing's wrong, Remus," Said Lyall, looking like he was about to follow his wife. "We're happy, that's all."

"Merlin, Remus, are all your sleepovers like this?" Sirius asked his friend. Remus' face burned a bit, and he shrugged.

"I wouldn't really know…I…I've never had one," He whispered.

Sirius' mouth was agape. "Moony, how did you fail to mention this was the first ever Lupin sleepover! No wonder, I felt like someone had rolled out the red carpet for me—I've never seen a house so clean—well, we won't count the cellar—and your parents have only just met me, but I swear they were happier to see me than my parents have ever been."

"Well, this settles it," Sirius said, grinning. "We have to do all of the cliché things you do when you meet the parents and spend the night the first time. Mrs. Lupin," Sirius stood, "Please, show me Baby Remy."

…

Dinner was had, wine was drunk (by Mr. and Mrs. Lupin), and pictures were shown. There was Remus in his summer outfit, which really did just consist of a plastic bucket over his head as a hat. There was, of course, Remus and Mooey, smiling and looking all jolly at the park. Then there was Remus and Mooey at the lake, Hope explained, as she told Sirius stories of the little toddler. Remus didn't bother protesting this time, and even added to the stories.

"I can't believe I thought Mooey could swim. Dad, you really had to jump into the water to get her?"

And then, the pictures of Baby Remy turned into not-so-baby Remy, and Mooey was gone. Only five other pictures remained in the album: one was a small, sick looking Remus asleep on the couch with a book in his hand, snoring.

"That one was worth the film," Lyall chuckled. "He always fell asleep reading."

"Still does," Quipped Sirius, "Though sometimes with his hand down—" Sirius stopped as Remus shoved him, glaring. Hope smiled, showing Sirius another picture.

"Here's Remus with his Hogwarts acceptance letter," She beamed. Sirius smiled. In the photo, Remus was hopping up and down, grinning wildly and pointing to the letter with his name on it.

"What happened to Mooey?" Sirius asked. And for a moment, the Lupins fell silent. Then Remus snorted.

"Let's just say Mooey didn't make it out of the cellar." As if given the all clear, Lyall smiled at Sirius.

"Like most little boys, Remus here loved carrying his stuffed Mooey everywhere. He pitched such a fit that night—"

"Lyall—"

"It's true Hope!" Lyall said, with a very Remus-like snort. "Anyway, you know how Remus gets sometimes," He explained to Sirius, "Very stubborn, especially a day or two before—"

"Dad!" Remus protested.

"It's true Remus, you do get a bit cross," Sirius told him, "It's comical, really." Remus turned to his mother for backup, but she remained suspiciously silent.

"—and he wouldn't let go of Mooey. It's no good being all riled up right before, and I told him the next day—"

"—you told me you sent Mooey to a farm!" Remus exclaimed. "I had forgotten about that—boy, was I thick—a stuffed cow, to a _farm_…"

…

Remus and Sirius were lying on the floor of the boy's bedroom, Hope's muggle music playing on the record player downstairs.

"You Lupins…"

"What?" Remus asked, turning his head in Sirius' direction.

"The lot of you. You're just so…"

"Loopy?"

"I was going to say good. You aren't rich, you aren't famous, you certainly don't have an easy life—"

"—where are you going with this?" Huffed Remus.

"—let me get there," Sirius said. "Right, where was I…oh right, difficult life, yadda yadda…and yet a visitor comes and you make him feel so welcome, so bloody wonderful, it makes you wonder what the world would be like if everyone were like you lot," Sirius said softly.

"Sirius, that's real profound—"

"Bloody strange sleepover, though, you Lupins need your practice. Don't worry, I'll be back."


	4. Hijinks

_1971_

* * *

Remus Lupin was hunched over his History of Magic textbook, reading intently. He would never tell anyone this, of course, but he found the class dreadfully boring. He felt rather guilty—he was lucky to be at Hogwarts to begin with. Who was he to say goblin rebellions weren't interesting?

"Remus!"

Peter ran into the library, heading towards his friend and nearly tripping over his robes. Other students shot glares—the library was supposed to be quiet, after all.

"Peter," Remus hissed. "You can't yell in here, it's the library—"

"It's James and Sirius," Peter began, panting. "They're in trouble."

Remus sighed, rolling his eyes. "We've gone over this. If it's below a three, leave me be. Higher than an eight—"

"Come get your mate," Peter huffed. "And in between, best be keen, but Remus," Peter said worriedly. "This is at _least_ a seven." This gave Remus some pause. Had it been Charms or Transfiguration, Remus would likely not budge. But with History of Magic…

"Alright, I'm coming."

Peter led Remus out of the library, the two hurrying down the corridor.

"So, they decided to raid the potions classroom, for the upcoming Snivellus Project," Peter paused to catch his breath, "But there was a jinx, and when Sirius opened the door to Slughorn's stores…his _hand_—"

"Is he hurt?" Remus asked, eyes wide as they descended down the stairs.

"Well, he says it hurts, but I'm not…Oh, you'll just have to see…"

Remus passed Peter on the stairs, sprinting into the potions classroom. James looked concerned, and Sirius, plopped on the floor, had a strange mix of embarrassment and discomfort on his face.

"Remus, glad to see you," Sirius said, gulping, clearly hiding his arm under his robes. "The door, it was jinxed—"

"I did tell you to check before you open things—"

"—well I got _excited_, Remy," Sirius explained. "I mean, we've been planning this for weeks—"

"Days," James corrected.

"—and I couldn't help myself," Sirius finished with a pout. He took his hand out from beneath his robe, and Remus couldn't tell whether to laugh or be concerned. Sirius' normally slender hand had swelled to about five times its size, as if bitten by a large wasp.

"Merlin's Beard, Sirius," Remus said, trying to keep his lips from quivering from the laughter inside. "Well, you've done it this time." He walked over, knelt down and held Sirius' hand, taking out his wand.

"Reducio," Remus said softly, and Sirius' hand began to turn back to roughly its normal size, albeit a bit swollen looking, as if someone had stepped on it. "Now, let's get back before…" Remus trailed off. He knew those footsteps.

"Before what, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus sighed. Professor McGonagall. He needed to think of something, and quick.

"Before the swelling gets worse," He lied. "We were down here, trying to find Sirius' potions book—"

"But when I went to check behind old Sluggy's desk," Sirius continued, "Peter—"

"Clumsy twat," James interjected.

"Hey!" Peter pouted.

"—Peter knocked into it, sending the desk against my hand—"

"—and causing a nasty bit of swelling," Remus finished. "You can see for yourself," He added for good measure. At any rate, Sirius' hand did seem to show signs of this whole story. The Head of Gryffindor seemed less impressed. But after a moment of consideration….

"Very well, Mr. Lupin. And you'll do well to remember that it's _Professor Slughorn_, Mr. Black." Her lips curled together tightly. Remus could tell she knew something was not quite right, but without any evidence… "You'd best be off to Madame Pomfrey, she'll want to examine your hand."

"Of course, Minnie," Sirius said with a grin. Professor McGonagall, unamused, left. James smiled.

"Thanks Remus, you'll really good at all this," He said. "The mischief, the lying—" Remus froze somewhat. They didn't...They didn't know he had been lying to them all this year, had they?

"Oi, Rem, it's not a bad thing," Sirius said, standing up. "It's brilliant. You're smart, studious, generally quiet—"

"Minus the snoring," Peter whispered,

"—and no one ever suspects you of anything," Sirius continued. "Bloody brilliant."

"Professor McGonagall did suspect _something_," Remus started, but James just laughed.

"She _always_ suspects something with us, mate. The fact that she didn't give any one of us detention means we're in the clear."

Remus smiled. He had thought…but no matter. His friends didn't suspect anything. He was safe.

"Maybe I should consider changing the rhyme a bit…Below a three, leave me be…"

"Above a four, head out the door!" James finished with a grin.

"A four doesn't sound so bad," Sirius countered. "Maybe a six or above? This was a seven, in my honest opinion," Peter looked positively pleased.

"Above a six, drop the chick?" James asked. Remus shook his head.

"That's only a slant rhyme, it doesn't sound nearly as good—"

"—and Remus doesn't have a chick," Sirius retorted, much to Remus' chagrin.

"I know," Peter began, "Above a six, Remus has a fix." The boys looked over at Peter, pausing for a moment.

"Pete," James began, "This might be the first time I've ever told you this, and it may be the last…but that was brilliant."

"I like it, Pete," Remus said, drooping his arm around his friend's shoulder. "Now come on, we should get your hand checked out, we don't need McGonagall asking any more questions," Remus insisted.

The boys left the potions classroom, trotting up the stairs laughing and planning their next steps in the prank against Snivellus.


	5. A Furry Little Problem

_early 1973_

* * *

Remus had just come back from the infirmary. This month, like the few before it, had felt easier. Knowing that his friends knew why he disappeared every month and didn't mind was an incredible relief. Not only did Remus feel better on the inside, but he had been able to return to class much sooner as a result of his injuries not being nearly what they were—though still severe by anyone's standards. Entering the Gryffindor common room, Remus had half expected his friends to be lounging about waiting for him. While the fellow pranksters were nowhere to be found, Lily Evans, who had been sitting in one of the plush armchairs reading, closed her book.

"Looking for your friends?" She asked kindly, seeming to be reading Remus' mind. "They're in your room. They were waiting out here, but James was being such a…such a…"

"Git?" Remus suggested, eliciting a smile from Lily.

"A git," She confirmed. "They wouldn't stop yelling and dancing around while I was trying to read, so I sent them away. Don't worry, they are eagerly waiting for you. Frank is with them too, I believe." Remus scrunched up his face a bit.

"Frank Longbottom?" He asked. What would Frank be doing with his friends? It wasn't that he didn't like Frank—far from it. He just had never seen him talk to James, Sirius, or Peter.

"I thought it was odd too," Lily admitted. "Though no stranger to me than you hanging out with them, Remus. You're bright, kind, innocent—"

"I'm more like them than you know," Remus said a bit darkly. _Innocent, _he thought to himself, _if only_. "Anyway, thanks for letting me know where they are," Remus said with a smile, walking slowly to his room. He had mangled his ankle a bit, and the bandage and pain made it a bit difficult to walk.

"Are you alright?" Lily asked, "You look a bit pale, and your leg…"

"A nasty fall down the hill in the backyard," Remus assured Lily, lying through his teeth. "I was visiting my mum and dad this weekend." He hated lying to Lily, who never pestered, was always kind to him, but it was for the best. Even though she was muggle born, Remus still worried about losing her friendship.

He continued on his way, almost opening the door to his room but pausing when he heard muffled voices.

"Frank, he'll appreciate this—really," James said from inside.

"You think?" That was Frank. "I didn't mean to overhear, but my mum has the same thing…"

Remus' eyes widened. Frank's mum…had what? He had to assume they were talking about him—Why else would they be talking specifically when Remus wasn't there?

"I would've never thought," Sirius said. "Mrs. Longbottom, with a furry little—"

Remus opened the door in a hurry, eyes wide, face gone paler than usual. He saw Peter, James, and Sirius talking to Frank, who was holding a small parcel.

"Remus!" James exclaimed. "You're back. How are your mum and dad?"

"Good…" Remus said, a bit hesitant. He attempted eye contact with his friends, looking for any signs of stress, but found none. Sirius had been about to say furry little problem. He had said Frank's mum, she had the same problem…Did they tell Frank about him? About what he was?

"And your mum?" Frank asked. "She's feeling better?" Seeing the shock on Remus' face, Frank hastily continued. "Your mates told me—dragon pox, bloody awful that is. Had it last year, was sick for months."

Dragon pox. Remus was confused, but felt some of the color return to his face. Frank didn't know why he was gone. Then why…?

"He overheard us talk about your furry little problem," Sirius began. "Your rabbit, Mr. Testy?"

"My rabbit…" Remus whispered, not quite understanding.

"Technically your mum's," Peter squeaked. "But we explained you had to take care of it, because—"

"—Well, Mr. Testy got his name somehow, didn't he?" James chuckled. "Seems to get in such a mood sometimes, hard to explain why. Isn't as snuggly—"

"—won't share food," Peter added.

"—you get too close, I swear _spittle_ flies out of its mouth—"

"—my rabbit," Remus finished, shooting a glare at his friends. He knew what they were getting at. "Yes, Mr. Testy can be…testy, at times, but he's mostly a good rabbit," Remus defended.

"Oh yes," James agreed. "Nine times out of ten, fantastic rabbit, but every now and then—"

"—A furry little problem," Frank finished with a smile. "My mum says the same thing about her rabbit—something about rabbits being exposed to magic, she says, alters their brains. I think its rubbish, her explanation, but it's true that Brandy—her rabbit, that is—can be a real nuisance." Frank rolled up his sleeve, handing the parcel to Peter. "See?"

Remus' eyes widened. Frank had quite a few scars on his arm. "And that's all from your mum's rabbit?" Frank nodded.

"I assumed—I mean, you've got a couple of scars…" Frank said sheepishly. Remus smiled.

"Oh, yes, mostly from Mr. Testy, or my own clumsiness." Remus then shifted his gaze towards his friends. "Peter, what have you got there?"

"Carrots," Frank said. "From my garden. I had my mum owl them to me—I quite enjoy herbology, and I found a way to grow carrots that have a sort of calming effect on rabbits—well, at least on Brandy. I thought that maybe, if you wanted, you could bring some home with you next time you go and try feeding them to Mr. Testy," Frank said with a smile. "It would be a great help to me too—if they work on another rabbit, I might've really caught onto something."

Remus tried his absolute best not to chuckle. "That sounds brilliant, Frank," Remus said kindly. "I'm glad you thought of me; this is really quite kind."

"Oh, it's no problem at all really," Frank assured him. "Those furry little creatures can be quite a bother, nasty bites too. Anyway, I better be off—I need to find Alice, but let me know if they work," Frank added.

"Of course," Remus said softly. "And thank you."

Frank grabbed his things and walked out of their room. As soon as Remus knew he was out of earshot, he turned to his friends.

"Mr. Testy the rabbit? Really?" He inquired.

"Well, it was the best we could come up with," Sirius explained. "You're normally there to help us out of these sticky situations, but seeing as how you left us this weekend—"

"—which is entirely understandable," James added, shooting Sirius a look.

"—we had to come up with our own explanation. It was the first thing I could think of, a rabbit, since it's furry and small, but it was James who came up with the name—"

"—Hey! I had to make it seem like a troublesome rabbit. You don't go calling troublesome things by cutesy names, like Bubbles, or Sandy, or—"

"Moony?" Remus quipped, smiling.

"Well you're hardly troublesome," Sirius insisted. "You've got a bit of trouble, sure, but you aren't nearly as troublesome as the rest of us lot. Anyway, Frank really seems to have bought it, so we're all in the clear."

Remus rolled his eyes. Only his friends would insist he was 'hardly troublesome.' "So, tell me, what do we do with these carrots? We don't exactly have a rabbit to test them out on, and Frank will be suspicious if don't let him know if they worked or not."

"One step ahead of you," James grinned. "We've got an idea."

Sirius rolled out some parchment, and the four boys grabbed quills. James explained how they would sneak down into the kitchens and make a little carrot cupcake for Professor Slughorn. He was always accepting of gifts from 'collectable' students, Sirius added, saying that he would drop the cupcake off at his office. Then, when Slughorn was all calm and loopy—assuming Frank's herbology skills were what he said—he'd be much more likely to look the other way while the boys grabbed the bit of Erumpent horn from his stores. The horn contained an exploding fluid that would be perfect for causing distractions, breaking things, but most importantly—"

"—For Snivellus," Sirius smirked. Remus chuckled. Of course, if it was mischief related, his friends had a quick answer. But when it came to clever lies, it was nice to know that they still needed Remus. The boys wrapped up their planning session—Remus needed his rest, Peter and Sirius needed to finish their schoolwork, and James had some unfinished business with Lily Evans…


	6. Dear Diary

_Monday, the seventh of October, 1976_

_I cannot believe my friends. This has got to be the most idiotic, most profoundly stupid, imbecilic, dangerous, horrifying thing they've ever done in their entire lives. I should feel terrible and guilty that they went through so much trouble and put themselves in so much danger—already—just for me. But I don't feel bad, and if anything I feel guilty for not feeling bad, because it's so unbelievably brilliant and kind. They've become animagi—unregistered, I might add—to help me during the transformations. They actually went to the library without me to read, and when I was gone, they'd practice. I knew they were crazy, and incredibly bright, but I never thought they would do this. Especially not for me, a sodding werewolf._

_The way they told me, too—classic. I was just reading under the willow by the lake, and a stag simply appeared from the woods. It seemed so odd—it was the middle of the day—and then it just looked at me and started to walk over. Animals normally hate me, and for a moment there I truly thought this stag was coming to bludgeon me or something, when out of nowhere this big, shaggy black dog tackled the stag. I had never seen anything like it in my entire life. Dogs didn't attack deer; it wasn't done. It was enough to get me to drop my book, and when I finally looked down I saw a rat nibbling at one of the pages. I shrieked, stood up, as the three animals started walking ever closer towards me. It felt like the end of days._

_Then, when I was about to close my eyes and hope for the best, the shapes of the animals became familiar to me. The stag was James. Sirius, of course, was the shaggy black dog, and the all-terrifying rat was Peter. I felt myself go into shock—a strange feeling—and I promptly fainted._

_When I came to, my friends hovered over me. Sirius, I assumed, had gone through my bag and offered me a piece of chocolate. They hadn't meant to scare me, he explained. Only surprise. They told me they've been working on this for two years—Merlin, I still can't believe it—ever since that day in D.A.D.A. in third year when we learned about werewolves. They kept asking me if I had any pets, which I explained no, not since the cat ran away when I was five, and whether or not I thought I liked animals, and all of that. I thought they were just curious, but now I know they were trying to probe. They wanted to distract me during the full moon, make it so that I wouldn't hurt myself so badly._

_When the shock had finally worn off, I wasn't sure what to say. It's incredibly dangerous—even if they managed to stay transformed the entire night (which is difficult), and even if we never get caught (which is unlikely), there will always be the chance that they can't outrun me, that I'll run free, bite someone, and my life and theirs will never be the same. It's horrifying to think about, makes my head spin. And then there's the guilt—not only the guilt of knowing what I was putting my friends through, even if everything ends up going according to plan, but to break Dumbledore's trust? After all he's done to help me and to make sure I can get an education, to throw it all away…And for what? Fewer broken bones? Fewer scars? Am I turning so self-absorbed that I want to look better, to feel better, maybe get a lay?_

_There are tangible benefits, I know: I would miss much less class and with O.W.L.'s this year, I need all the help I can get. And I know my friends care for me—I'm not as daft as I was—and that seeing me so badly hurt after the full moon takes its toll. They help me loads just by visiting me in the ward, making my life far easier, and just being my friends. But they want to do more to help, and I can't blame them: if I were in their shoes, I would have done the same thing. That's the worst part about all of this. I can't be mad at them, I can't be upset, and thought I feel incredibly selfish, the thought of waking up and going to class the morning after or even the next day is something I've dreamed about for years. _

_But even if this all works out (and I'm positive it won't, but at least my friends have learned a useful bit of magic and Peter's confidence is sky-high), they'll still have to see it—they'll have to watch me transform. And I don't know how to explain to them what they'll see, because no one has ever seen it. I don't even know what I look like, but I have to imagine its terrifying. They've never thought of me as a monster and I'm eternally grateful for it, but they've also never seen the monster. I'm worried that after seeing me, nothing will be the same. Once they see me for what I am, what I truly am, they won't ever want to be my friends again. And that would hurt more than the bruises and scrapes and pains all combined. I'm a bloodthirsty monster, and they don't know it but it's so very true. _

_But maybe it will work. Maybe, just maybe, I'll feel less hurt, more alive, and they'll stay my friends regardless. Maybe Dumbledore will never find out, and I'll never have to worry about breaking his trust. I told them that we need to practice—trial runs, if you will, where we enact everything that will happen and multiple times too. There is no room for error. One mistake costs us our lives, and I need to impress upon them the severity of what they're doing. But I'm just so bloody happy._

_The next full moon is three weeks away. In the meantime, we'll sneak out at night, every night, to get it right. Hopefully they'll listen—I know they don't take much seriously, but this time I think they will really listen. I think they know what's at stake. _

_Next week I have an essay due for—_

"Dora!"

Remus' voice echoed throughout Andromeda Tonks' house, all the way up to the attic. Nymphadora "Tonks" Lupin, known affectionately as Dora to one and only one, closed the dusty journal and shoved it back into the single box of her husband's things from his Hogwarts days.

"Dora, what are you doing up here?" Remus asked softly. "It's late, I'm headed to bed soon." He looked at his wife intently. "You've been snooping," He said plainly.

"Have not," Tonks retorted, hair lighting up red.

"I've spent enough time with mischievous folk to know what snooping looks like. Is that…my box of things?" Remus asked, wincing slightly as he bent down to kneel next to his wife. The full moon had only been a day or two ago.

"Yes," Tonks admitted, hair returning to its normal bubblegum pink state. "I was hoping you'd have something—pictures, a scarf, anything for the baby's room…." Remus kissed the top of her head.

"He'll want nothing of what I have, believe me," Remus said rather darkly. "The more like you he is, the better." Tonks looked like she was about to protest, but Remus continued. "What did you find?"

"A couple of things. Some notes from class—you wrote like a professor, even back then—and a few photos of your friends but none of you," She pouted.

"I wasn't much to look at," Remus admitted. "Still am not—"

"—Oh hush," Tonks said. "Only thing I found of interest was your old journal—"

"—Merlin, don't tell me—"

"—Which is full of useful little details about a certain Moony and his friends." Remus flushed red. He knew what was in those journals, and he wouldn't wish to read any of it now. It was drabble, nonsense from his younger days.

"You're not selfish, you know," Tonks said softly. Remus furrowed his brows.

"When did I say—"

"_Often_. You felt selfish for having friends, selfish for wanting to fit in, selfish for wanting company when you transformed—"

"—It was selfish," Remus said rather abruptly. "I was a selfish teenager. I let my friends do things they never should have done, all for my benefit, and for what? If it weren't for me, my friends would likely still be alive. Harry would have parents, you would have a cousin—"

"You stop that right now," Tonks said, raising her voice, her hair positively fuchsia. "Without you, James and Lily would have never gotten together—Harry wouldn't exist. He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named would have caused far more hurt than he already has, Peter," She spat, "For all he's worth, would have been a sniveling fool regardless, and if he hadn't been Padfoot, Sirius would never have been able to escape Azkaban. You have to understand—"

"He never would've been in Azkaban in the first place," Remus snapped, "If Peter hadn't been able to hide like he did. I caused it," Remus said, voice breaking a bit. "It was my fault."

Tonks could see how much Remus was hurting. She pulled out the journal, flipping through pages of:

_Sirius and James are in detention—_

_I wonder if Marlene likes me—_

_I think I'll write my essay on vampires, they are probably just as misunderstood—_

"Here," Tonks said flatly. "Read."

_I can't blame them: if I were in their shoes, I would have done the same thing._

Remus scanned the page. "This is—"

"Out. Loud."

Remus sighed. "I can't blame them: if I were in their shoes, I would have done…the same thing. Dora, this is—"

"—this is you, Remus. You said yourself, you would've done the same thing. Perhaps not if you had known the entire future—but what 15-year-old does? Need I remind you, this is the same 15-year-old worried about 'getting a lay,' so don't tell me you weren't a normal teenager sometimes," Tonks said pointedly. Remus, ears pink, remained silent. "Besides," Tonks said, softly and more kind, grabbing one of Remus' scarred and calloused hands, laying it across her belly. "They kept you safe. Your body had time to recover, you survived, and you've given me this," Tonks whispered. "Which is more than I could ever dream of."

Remus sighed. He knew when he had lost. And, it was best not to argue with a very pregnant Tonks. Besides…he couldn't ignore the past entirely. Everything he had done, good or bad, brought him to where he was. A beautiful wife, a baby on the way…It was everything he could've ever dreamed of. "You're right, Dora," He said meekly. Tonks smirked.

"What was that?" She asked, "I couldn't hear you." Remus smiled, and rolling his eyes, said:

"You're right, Dora." Remus got up, pressing his arms onto his thighs, an extended a hand to help his wife with her balance, which had only gotten worse over the past eight months. Dora took the hand, and slowly rose up.

"That's what I thought. Now let's get to _bed_," she said with a smirk. And that was all Remus needed to hear.

**I know, I know...really only 50% in the Marauders' world. But I felt someone should be reading his journal, and who better?**


	7. A Moonlit Dress Rehearsal

_1976_

* * *

"Remus, wake up!"

Sirius Black nudged his friend. Nothing.

"Moony," he whispered, shoving his shoulder. "Wake up: it's 3 in the morning, time to go."

To say that Remus was not a morning person would be an understatement. But this had been his idea, after all, to practice. However, he had forgotten how much he adored his sleep. This was the first of many trial runs, and Remus wondered if it would just be easier to assume it would all work out, to not practice at all.

"He's not waking up," Sirius complained. James narrowed his eyes.

"And you're giving up this quickly? You know how important this is, and it's not his fault that he isn't good in the mornings." Taking out his wand, and holding it at Remus, James said "_Aguamenti."_

Water. Remus bolted upright. James smiled, Sirius chuckled, and Peter, who had just woken up himself, stared blankly.

"Why is Moony wet?" He asked his friends.

"Because Moony is terrible at waking up," Remus muttered, shaking his hair a bit like a dog. He had grown it out after getting a nasty scar on his cheek, but it now dried so slowly now that it took a couple of good shakes to get the water out. Remus saw the irony of this.

"Wands, robes, the cloak...is there anything else we need?" James asked.

"Your minds," Remus added, "Since you've clearly _lost _them," he said a bit morosely.

"Remus, we've been over this-"

"I know, James, and I'm far too tired to," Remus yawned, "Argue." He slowly got out of bed, as did Peter, and the boys put on their robes as James searched for the invisibility cloak.

"Why do we have to put our robes on?" Peter moaned.

"Because," Remus said, "You'll be wearing robes when you come down with me, and I want every little detail to be as close to the real thing as possible." Even Remus couldn't explain the logic, he just worried. Sirius, sensing this, put his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"It'll all go swimmingly, Moony. I solemnly swear." Remus could only hope this was true.

Despite the four of them having grown over the years, they could all still fit under the cloak. Having made it safely out of the common room and through the castle, the boys headed for the Whomping Willow. Above them hung a half moon, a reminder of how little time they had to get this right. For Remus, this trip was common. But he wasn't sure his friends had ever been so close to the enormous tree.

"Blimey," Sirius whispered. "And we have to get..."

"Under that," Remus said. "Yes." Peter audibly gulped. His time was up. Remus smiled at Peter. "I believe in you. I've seen you turn into a rat dozens of times now. And the knot," Remus pointed with his wand, "Is just right there."

"I can do it," Peter said, nodding. He was, after all, a Gryffindor. Closing his eyes, Peter began to shrink. Before long, he was scurrying to the base of the tree.

"It still astounds me," James began, "That _he's_ the smallest of us all." Sirius laughed, but Remus covered his mouth.

"Quiet," he whispered. "We don't know who...or _what_ is watching."

Before long, the tree seemed to freeze. "He did it," Remus whispered. He turned to the others. "Alright then, follow me." The boys looked for Peter, and upon finding him, he turned back into their friend.

"Did I...did I do alright?"

"It was brilliant," James insisted. Remus nodded in approval.

"Now, the tunnel is right over here," Remus said, leading his friends. He pushed aside a low hanging branch to reveal a door. "It's dark at night, so you'll want a light: _Lumos_," Remus said, and a small but bright light shot out of his wand.

"And that leads to the shack?" Sirius asked. Remus nodded.

"Positive. Now, when you get here the door will be locked, but _Alohamora_ is enough to open it from the outside. You'll need to leave the door cracked, as well, so that we'll be able to get out," Remus explained, his voice echoing a bit as he began down the tunnel. _Get out_...what had once seemed so ridiculous to him was slowly becoming a reality. _No, not ridiculous. Impossible_. "Got it?"

"Got it," James repeated. The others simply nodded, and the group was oddly silent. The gravity of what they were doing began to hit them. The four boys continued through the tunnel. The ground was displaced, the smell of earth mixed with the smell of blood and urine.

"Blimey, that smell…" Sirius said, pinching his nose with his fingers as he crawled. James shot him a look, but in the darkness this wasn't seen.

"Get used to it," Remus said, a bit bitterly than he intended. "I'm…I'm sorry, I just…I pride myself on being _clean_—"

"—_Moony_," James sighed, "Really, it's okay. We're not expecting you to mop." Peter snickered, and Remus pursed his lips.

"Well, good then. Because it gets worse from here."

Eventually, the boys reached a set of stairs. Remus led the others up the creaky stairs, into the shack, and felt a wave of embarrassing heat wash over him. They had ever seen where he transformed—not even Sirius knew how bad it would look, as he had looked in the cellar at his parents' house for less than a minute.

"Welcome to my home," Remus said somewhat stiffly.

The walls, which _had_ been painted, were more brown now than blue. Where there wasn't paint, there was wood, and the wood was in turn stained with blood. Claw marks were everywhere and had contributed to the peeling paint. The walls, the floor, even the ceiling was scratched and dented. There was some furniture, or at least, what was left of it: the table had a leg missing and was broken down the middle. Only one chair remained in full; wooden legs of its comrades lay scattered, broken and splintered all around the room. The bed—if you could still call it that—had been ripped to shreds, and feathers from the mattress coated with blood stuck to the walls and floors. The bed frame itself? Broken. There was a single, small window, positioned for Remus to know where the moon was. Otherwise, it was empty, save for a small metal chest where Remus could keep his robes. The room smelled musty and sickly, as though someone in it had died.

"This isn't your home," said Sirius, a bit angrily. "Your home has your parents and smells like brownies, this is..."

"...Bloody hell," Peter breathed, and whether it was to finish Sirius' statement or it was just a reaction to the gruesome scene, it was equally appropriate.

James, silent, had begun to walk around. He stretched his fingers over a particularly strong set of marks on the wall. His hands were by no means small, but his fingers couldn't stretch to even half the length of the scratches. Unlike Sirius, James had not seen the cellar. But he did know what Remus' real home was like, and this certainly wasn't it.

"I'd say we could decorate," James began, attempting to lighten the mood, "But I'm not sure what good it would do." Remus snorted.

"Yeah, no shite," He retorted. After a moment or two of looking around the room, Remus sat down on the floor, looking up at the window, beginning to strip down.

"Moony, what are you doing?" Sirius asked. Remus shrugged.

"What I normally do. Pretend it's 20 minutes until moonrise. You lot will have walked in, and you'll lock the invisibility cloak in with my robes in that trunk. Unlike you, I don't transform with clothes on," He said, pulling his robes over his head. "Besides, I can't have you all ogling over by beautiful naked form when there's work to be done."

The boys tried to smile, but with the stench of death and the visible evidence of destruction their friend had caused so blatantly exposed, it looked more like a grimace.

"Did Moony make a joke?" Sirius asked.

"During the super serious, dreadfully grave task?" James asked, feigning astonishment. Remus, unbuttoning his pants, gave them a small smile.

"Well, you all looked about as pale as I do. I had figured…"

"No, Moony," Sirius said, grinning now. "It's great. Really."

Remus, nude, sat on the ground. His friends sat with him. In the faint moonlight, the white scars across his body glistened. The newer scars, still pink, looked all the more visible against his pale skin. There was hardly a bit of him that hadn't been attacked in some way, and large, multicolored bruises flanked his sides and legs. Remus caught his friends staring. "Pretty bad, huh?" He scoffed.

James stifled a chuckle. "No, mate, it's just…"

"You're quite…" Peter continued.

"_Well-endowed_," Sirius finished. "For a little runt—"

"_Hey!_" Remus protested, feeling his ears turn red. "That's not…It's not…" He gave up. Then, he started to laugh.

"What is it?" James asked.

"Out of anything you lot could have noticed, that is by far the _last_ thing I expected to hear." Remus then held his legs to his chest and looked up. "Alright, now, I'll be too weak by this point…so, one of you will need to put my clothes and the cloak into that metal trunk over there," Remus said, pointing. James nodded, taking on the task. "At ten minutes 'til moonrise, you all will transform."

"But that's nine more than we need—"

"—at ten minutes," Remus snapped. "What if something goes wrong? You need time to leave, to get out of here quickly and safely."

Sirius looked at his friend solemnly. "Alright. Ten 'til it is." Sirius looked at James and Peter, who all nodded and began their transformations. Sirius into a dog, James into a stag, and Peter once again into a rat. Remus smiled weakly. Watching his friends transform was peaceful. His was anything but.

"I'll likely not talk much during this time, but for now I can…explain," Remus began. "Merlin, it's strange talking to a bunch of animals." Sirius barked, which Remus took to mean something, though what he could not say. "Anyway, at ten before, I won't be moving much, and my limbs will stiffen. I get cold, and shiver. Don't come near me when that happens. That goes on for a bit, and my memory goes a bit foggy. I don't know when, but eventually I feel positively rigid. That's when the convulsions start. Small, at first, but more and more until I…change." Remus spoke quietly. "It's not like with you all. I'm not exactly sure what happens first, and I can't control it. And it hurts." Dog-Sirius whimpered. "I'll scream like bloody murder. The screams turn to howls, and when that happens you prepare yourself, since that's all I can ever remember."

Remus stood up. "I have no idea where I'll go, I have no clue how fast I'll get there, and you will need to be alert. No mistakes," Remus said, his voice trembling. "I'll run down the stairs, through the tunnel, where I will claw at the door…only to realize this time, I can leave," Remus continued. "So, follow me." Remus began to jog down the staircase. "I know this seems ridiculous, but—" Sirius barked, cutting him off. "Right, right, you know. Anyway, I'll run through the tunnel," He said, panting a bit as he ran, hearing the hooves and paws of his friends behind him, "Get to the door, and open it," Remus said, pushing the door open and running outside. "Now I'm running, I'm running…" He said, running in circles around the tree, only to stop. His friends weren't running.

"What are you waiting for? _Run!_ Come get me!" Remus said more aggressively. Sirius was the first to lunge ahead. Remus ran in a few more circles, while Sirius followed. Peter hung back, and James, the stag, began to run in front of Remus. "Good James," He called out, "Giving me something to chase." This continued for some time, Remus running around the field, giving his friends an estimate of their speed. What these boys hadn't realized, however, is that they did not leave the castle unseen. A tabby cat had been lurking in the shadows, and having seen enough, had woken the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

From his office high above, Albus, with Minerva by his side, could see something he had never seen before: Remus, in the nude, running outside being chased by a large deer and a dog.

"And you are certain they are the boys?" Albus asked.

"Positive," Minerva replied curtly. She too watched the scene, in some mix of horror and glee.

"And their transformations?" Albus asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"As far as I can tell…" Minerva began, "Flawless. They've mastered this magic with incredible speed. But Albus," She began painfully, "We can't possibly let them—"

"—without precautions? No, of course not," Albus began. "But you said they called this their first attempt. I would be shocked if Mr. Lupin did not drill them until he felt they had reached perfection."

"Albus," Minerva began again, "You can't seriously—"

"—Minerva," Albus said, holding up a hand, "They won't be alone. The centaurs are quite aware of the boy's struggles and have promised to help should anything go awry. If it does, the consequences could be dire," Albus said gravely. "But if they succeed…They may possibly save Remus' life." Minerva looked horrified.

"You don't mean…"

"Poppy is not one to sugarcoat things, Minerva. If he continues to harm himself every month the way he does, he will not live long enough to make use of his education. And this will all have been in vain." A ghostly silence fell over the room. The two watched Remus stop running, and pretend to fall on the ground, presumably telling his friends that it was the sign for them to transform back, which they did, and carry him back under the tree. As the boys disappeared, Minerva sighed.

"Merlin help these boys."


	8. Their First Time

_1976_

* * *

Remus sat alone, shivering. It was twenty minutes until moonrise. His clothes were in a pile, neatly folded, next to him. His eyes, bloodshot, looked up: no moon. Not that he had suddenly expected it to appear, but he figured he would check for good measure. Where were they?

James, Sirius, and Peter—who kept reminding Remus that they wanted to be called by their nicknames too, now that they could transform—should've been here by now. _Maybe they got scared, and left_, thought Remus rather sullenly. _Could you blame them?_ His eyes darted around the room. It wouldn't be so horrible to remain in here. After all, it had been all he knew for over four years. But part of him still had hope. It could get better.

Then, Remus heard a familiar sound.

"Prongs you git, hurry up." It was James and Sirius! "_Wormtail_ is going faster than you—"

"—Hey!" And Peter too! Remus could've smiled under any other circumstance. As it was, he could hardly move. Soon, his friends emerged from the stairs, meeting Remus' gaze.

"Hey Moony," Sirius said softly. "Sorry we're late, it won't happen again."

"T-t-tis okay," Remus mumbled, his gaze lowered, his skin translucent. "I-I'm j-j-just glad—"

"—It's okay, you don't have to talk," James insisted. "Really, we've got…" He checked his pocket watch, "Eight minutes, yeah? Before we all start turning into animals?"

"D-Door…" Remus started.

"Is open," Peter said. "And the tree is still," He added, beaming a bit. Remus tried to smile.

"Thank you," He whispered. Sirius smiled.

"It's what mates do. Speaking of which, you missed a nice dinner but don't worry—we were able to hide some dessert in our robes. When you get back, you'll have quite a few chocolate chip cookies to munch on. Speaking of which," Sirius continued with a positively mischievous smirk, "We're figured out what next week's prank will be. Divine intervention struck, if you will."

For the next few minutes, Sirius, James, and Peter told Remus all about their plans, and anything else he missed that day. After a bit, Remus stopped nodding and trying to smile.

"N-now," He whimpered. In a heartbeat, James locked away the cloak and Remus' robes, and he and the other boys began their own transformation. Remus was relieved when his friends had all managed to turn into their animal forms. But this relief was short lived. He felt himself stiffen, and his eyes darted back and forth between his friends and the window above. All four Marauders were still. Then, Remus started convulsing. Padfoot looked nearly ready to pounce, but Prongs seemed to be able to hold him back. Like Remus had promised, it was small and infrequent at first. His arms grew rigid, hitting the floor of the shack, where his fingers scraped the floor and trembled. Remus closed his eyes. When they opened, his pupils began to change, becoming wolf-like, and his head yanked back most unnaturally as he let out a painful scream. His back began to shudder and shake as it lengthened, bones cracking and shifting every which way. His fingers and toes turned to claws, his hands and feet sprouting fur, with his arms and legs following close behind. His face narrowed and as his neck jerked back and forth, something seemed to be almost pulling his nose and mouth into a snout. Fur grew incessantly, mushroom-brown, not unlike the color of Remus' hair. But this was no longer Remus. A human shriek turned into a howl, and the moonlight shown on a newly-grown, graying tail. Remus' transformation was complete.

The werewolf, for a moment, remained silent. Then, it whimpered, much like a dog. Padfoot, breathing slowly, stepped one paw forward. Instantly, the wolf turned to gaze at the shaggy black creature, but not with malice. This was simply observation. The wolf was normally alone and noticed that this was different. But its curiosity did not last long. The wolf's snout lifted: it had caught a human scent. Letting out a howl, the wolf ran itself against one of the walls of the shack, emitting a loud bang. Unsuccessfully trapped, the wolf snarled, thrusting itself against the wall again in a second attempt to break it down.

Prongs gave Padfoot a look: this is what they were here to prevent. Padfoot then glared at Wormtail, motioning with his head to start running outside: they would meet him there. As the wolf began to scratch at the wall, Prongs used his antlers to headbutt the werewolf's left flank. Instantly, it turned, snarling. Prongs dashed down the stairs and through the tunnel, the werewolf following close behind. Padfoot was the last to leave.

Prongs wash chased through the tunnel and out the door, which Wormtail had left very much ajar. The werewolf sprinted behind, then paused—another scent. Distracted again. Padfoot emerged, and, seeing a worried-looking Prongs, suspected that this would be a very, _very_ long night.

As the moon shone on and the night progressed, Moony took the boys on a grand tour of the grounds of Hogwarts. There was the forbidden forest—much less forbidden when travelling with a werewolf—and then the lake, where the wolf stopped for a drink before catching another scent, sending the boys on another wild goose chase. The main problem area of course was keeping the wolf away from Hogsmeade, but fortunately the scents of Firewhisky and Butterbeer lining the streets seemed to help mask the scent of man—especially as the night grew long and most people remained sound asleep in their homes, unaware of the misfit parade around them.

The Quidditch fields, the area around Hagrid's Hut—all of it was new and exciting to the wolf, and even the others—Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail—would later admit as boys that this was an exciting new way to explore the school grounds. Eventually, and with only one close call (a drunkard the boys would later befriend, whom no one believed when he said he saw a rat and a deer chasing a wolf), the moon began to fade and with it, the wolf's energy and time left that month. The other animals noticed this and began to herd the wolf back to the Willow. Things had gone mostly according to plan—a fact Remus would use as justification for the next two and a half years. At last, the wolf froze: the moon was disappearing. As strangely as it had all began, the wolf began to shrink, and within moments the limp, frail body one could recognize as Remus fell to the ground. The moon was gone. Satisfied, the boys all began to change back to themselves.

"We…We did it," Sirius whispered, glancing at James and Peter, who had also returned to normal. All three boys' eyes were red with the lack of sleep. This, of course, paled in comparison with Remus' state. Although the boys had done the best they could, the wolf had still managed to bite and claw itself, though remarkably less than usual. Madame Pomfrey had believe a miracle had happened that night.

"C'mon," James said, motioning towards Remus on the ground, let's get him back inside. Sirius and James picked up the body, and Peter helped to open and close the door. Crawling through the tunnel with a body was no easy task, but the boys had done this all before. Once inside the shack, they laid Remus down.

"He looks good," Peter said at last, and the boys turned to him. "I mean, not good, but—"

"He looks like he does on day two or three," James interjected. "By all means, that's good."

"He still hurt himself," Sirius said softly. "He'll still have to go to the infirmary. It's not enough," He said, almost disappointed. James shot him a look.

"Do you think Remus would ever tell you it's not enough? Sirius, it's everything. Any little bit helps. When he wakes up, this will all be worth it," James said. Sirius was still somewhat unimpressed. "Look," James continued, "This was the first time. It'll get better."

Sirius snorted. "Is that what Dorcas told you?"

"Oi!" Yelped James. "Not funny!"

Then the boys remembered where they were.

"Look," James began, "Let's get the cloak, throw a few chairs around and scram. We've got to get back inside before Madame Pomfrey shows." The others nodded, and got to fast work, leaving Remus on the floor. He wouldn't wake, he told them. Only he didn't really know what to expect.

"P-P-Pad…" He croaked, eyes not moving, body very still except for a thin, hoarse breath causing his chest to rise and fall. The boys' eyes widened.

"Remus, Moony, we're here," Sirius said, rushing to his side. "We're here. It worked, everything is fine, no one is hurt—it's all okay."

"But we have to go," James added. "Madame Pomfrey will be here any minute—not that she has much work to do, mind you."

Remus didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. The thin smile forming from his cracked lips told the boys everything they needed to know: he had heard them. It had worked. And that afternoon, for the first time in over a decade, he would remember the day after his transformation.


	9. Into the Lake

_1974_

* * *

Remus Lupin loved the water. When he was young, growing up in the cottage in Surrey with the pond out back, he had been practically aquatic. Remus also enjoyed warm, sunny days, and books, and on this particularly pleasant day in March, the third-year was enjoying all of these things at once. He sat on the dock, lazily eating an apple as he dipped his toes into the water, parsing through the pages of his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook. His hair ruffled in the breeze, and it was warm enough to go without large robes—he wore just a jumper and his pants.

But there was one thing Remus Lupin did not love: being pushed _into_ the water.

_SPLASH!_

Sirius Black sniggered, with James and Peter close behind. Several other students turned their heads towards the noise, but most turned back to whatever it was they were doing before the splash: it was the Marauders. They always caused problems. Lily Evans, however, would not turn a blind eye.

"Sirius Black you prat!" She yelled, running from her conversation with Dorcas. "He's going to freeze!"

"Freeze?" Sirius asked, incredulously, "It's the warmest day we've had all year!"

"Exactly!" Lily snapped. "The water is freezing still, get him out!" She yelled, pointing to the water. Remus had found his way to the shoreline, teeth chattering, soaking wet. But the cold in his bones made it hard to stand. Sirius saw this, eyes wide, and ran over to help his friend.

"Moony—"

"G-g-geroff!" Remus spat, eyes animalistic. He had never looked so mad in front of his friends. "D-d-don't t-t-touch me," He muttered, standing up but immediately taking a few steps away.

"Remus, I'm sorry—I didn't know, I didn't think—"

"—you d-d-didn't," Remus finished, furious.

"Remus!" Lily called out. "Remus, we have to get your clothes off, they're making you colder—"

"NO!" Remus yelled, eyes panicked. Everyone was looking at him. Sure, this was normal Marauder stuff. But they didn't normally cause this much trouble with their own.

"Remus," Lily pleaded, walking closer, "Please." Shivering, cold, and nervous, Remus begrudgingly unbuttoned his pants, took off his sweater, and thrust his sopping clothes on the ground. Lily, James, Sirius, Peter, and others let out audible gasps.

Across Remus' chest was a large gash, that ran from his abdomen up to his neck. It hadn't healed well from the previous moon, and as cold and pale as Remus' skin was, it made the wound look all the worse. Remus felt his ears grow hot, and his nostrils flare, lips pulling back into something of a snarl.

"Remus," Sirius pleaded, "I—"

"You're an _arse_, Sirius Black," Remus snarled, finding his voice. His eyes narrowed, and for a brief moment, Remus felt as monstrous as the world told him he was. The full moon was just days away. Then, realizing how many eyes were on him, Remus dashed as fast he could into the woods. His friends simply stood in shock.

"Well?" Lily demanded. "Go after him! You lot are his friends, aren't you?"

"I'll go," Sirius said meekly. "It's my fault—"

"—Which is why he won't talk to you," James whispered. "Let me." James picked up the book that had washed ashore and glared at Sirius. "You fix this, I'll work on Remus."

James ran into the woods where he had soon Remus.

"Moony! Moony, it's James," He called out, "I'm sorry! I didn't know Sirius would push you in…he was supposed to tap you _on the shoulder_," James explained. He stopped for a moment, trying to see which way Remus had gone. In the distance, he heard a faint whimper. Remus.

The young werewolf had found a tree to sit under, soaking boxers collecting dirt. He wasn't shivering, but his teeth chattered from the sobs. Eventually, James found him, and Remus looked up, eyes red and puffy.

"Oh Moony," James whispered, "Moony, I'm so sorry…"

"What good is that," Remus huffed, wiping at his eyes. "Sirius, he—"

"—he doesn't think. Ever, really. We know this about him. Believe me," James said, kneeling beside his friend, placing his hand on his shoulder. "He's got penance to do. You've got every right to be angry."

Remus looked crestfallen. His anger…

"You don't think I was…_too_ angry, do you?" Remus asked softly.

"No," James said forcefully. "He should know better. We should know better…" He lowered his voice. "The full moon is only days away. I can't possibly know what that feels like, but if you had hexed him on the spot he would've deserved it." James paused, looking at Remus' chest.

"It never really healed right," Remus said darkly. "I'm worried…If it gets worse, what will happen."

James paused. He hadn't thought about that. Instinctively, he took off his own shirt. "Here," He said, "Put this on. You must be freezing." Remus wouldn't argue with that. He was cold. Slipping on James' shirt, which was far larger and nicer than anything he owned, Remus felt better. But he was still crying.

"They all saw," He said softly. "They'll know—"

"Know? Bullocks," James said. "It's one piece of the puzzle. We spent two years figuring it out, and we see you every day."

"No, James," Remus whispered. "It's not one piece." The boy sighed, looking at James with pain in his eyes. "The full moon falls on a Friday. I'm going to miss class, Defense class, and this week we're learning….We're learning…"

"Werewolves," James said slowly. "And you'll be missing class."

"_Exactly_," Remus said, a bit hoarse. "_Remus_ has a gash over his entire body. _Remus_ is gone the day of the full moon. Everyone in class will be learning about how to spot me, and before I know it—"

"No," said James, gripping Remus' shoulders. "We won't let that happen. It's not just you anymore, Remus. You have friends, and we can help you. Maybe you're not visiting your mum this weekend, but you'll be doing something—something ordinary."

James' eyes lit up.

"You got this last month. That's true. But no one knows how—I mean, you could've gotten hurt at home, and it looks bad enough that if anyone asked—"

"I went back to get it checked on," Remus said, feeling the tension slip away. "_Brilliant_, James. And the evidence is all there—I was doing my readings early, down by the lake, because I knew I had an appointment at St. Mungos. No one would question why I need to be checked out—I loo bloody awful most of the time—and with you and Peter and…" He sighed. "_And_ Sirius, all backing me up…"

"No one will question it," James said firmly. "I swear. Solemnly," He added.

"Solemnly…" Remus repeated. He even smiled, ever so faintly.

"There you have it, mate! It's all solved. And don't worry," James said seriously. "I'll be giving Sirius _hell_ for this."

Remus had a mischievous glint in his eyes. James knew what that meant—the gears in his head were turning. A prank was forming in Remus' sharp mind. James chuckled.

"Alright, alright—_we'll_ give him hell."

And that's how Sirius Black spent the whole of the next month scraping a nasty fungus off his feet. And absolutely no one questioned Remus' absence. No one, that is, except for Lily Evans—but that was a story for another day.


	10. Happy Birthday, Remus!

_1976_

* * *

"Surprise!"

Remus' eyes widened. The entire Gryffindor common room was decked out in streamers, and his fellow housemates were all wearing birthday hats and grinning. Today was Remus' 16th birthday, and the Marauders had decided that Remus needed to celebrate—even if he didn't want to himself.

"Happy birthday, Moony," Sirius grinned, holding out a clearly handmade chocolate cake. The icing read something that, while unintelligible to most, Remus could make out as a simple:

_Moony!_

"Guys," Remus started, rolling his eyes. "Is this why you were being so weird all week?" Peter nodded vigorously.

"Oh yes," He said. "I had the most difficult time—almost let it slip—"

"—But he didn't," James finished, handing Remus a drink and a party hat, "And now, you absolutely _have _to celebrate with us."

Remus sighed, attempting to push away the drink. "You know I don't do that," He said quietly, feeling everyone's stares. Remus never drank. One night more of losing control did not appeal to him—and worse: inebriated, Remus might let something slip.

"It's okay, mate," James whispered, "I'm on Moony duty—it's my job to make sure you don't do anything egregiously stupid," He explained.

"Mildly stupid only," Sirius confirmed. "Strictly low-level nonsense."

This changed things for Remus. He knew his friends wouldn't let him down. After all, they knew everything about him. They had no secrets and knew how important it was to keep the more private and wolfish parts of Remus' life a secret from everyone but themselves.

"Only low-level nonsense," Remus repeated sternly. "If there's even a chance that I say or do anything, you stop it. Agreed?"

"Agreed," the three boys chimed.

"Well," Remus grinned, grabbing the drink from Sirius. "Happy birthday to me!"

His friends had wanted him to give a sort of birthday speech. Sure, Remus had said, but he had other business to attend to. The business of finally letting go, just for one night.

As the night went on, however, Remus had no intentions of giving a toast. With a bit of old-fashioned liquid courage, and the confidence turning 16 can bring a young man, he had successfully (and with much "really?" and "is this okay, are you sure?") managed to bring a girl back to his room. And not just any girl: Marlene, who had been a crush for... how long? A few drinks in and Remus couldn't remember. What he did know was that snogging Marlene on his bed was nothing short of fantastic. Which of course made what followed that much more difficult.

"Ahem."

Remus, in the midst of finding Marlene's bra strap, heard an all too familiar sound.

"Prongsie!" He cheered. "Shhhhhhhhh, mate, you've got to go," Remus said, grinning wildly and pointing to a red in the cheeks Marlene. "I've got a _girl_ in my bed."

"Yes Remus, but—"

"Shhhhhhhhh," Remus repeated, holding his finger to his mouth, "Later, mate, later."

"Not later, Moony," James insisted. "Marlene, if you don't mind—"

"James," Remus began, "_Please_," he begged, "It's my _birthday_..."

"And you," James pointed out, "Are entirely too drunk."

Marlene, understanding, kissed Remus on the forehead, scurried out giggling or something of the sort, likely leaving to talk to Lily and Dorcas. Remus flopped on the bed, tie swing over and onto his face. James sighed. But before the newly minted voice of reason could explain, Sirius bumbled in, drink in his hand and lopsided birthday hat on his head.

"Oi! Moony had a girl in here!" He grinned, stopping when he noticed James' glare. "Prongs, mate, what happened?"

"What happened," James said, "Is that I saved our dear Moony a week's worth of, well, moonying about." Remus groaned.

"I don't...I wouldn't...I want to _shag_, Prongs," he complained. "And I was," with his fingers, Remus attempted to demonstrate how close he had been, though the lack of hand eye coordination made this hard to see, "This close before you walked in." This prompted Sirius to whack James on the back of the head.

"Ow! Padfoot, what in Merlin's—"

"You don't cock block a mate!" Sirius yelled. "Rule number one!"

"Really," James hissed, "Because I was under the impression that rule number one was don't let Moony do anything stupid." James paused, and rolled his eyes. "Moony, would you mind unbuttoning your shirt?"

"But James," Remus moaned. "I don't want to shag _you,_ I want to shag Marley." Sirius sniggered.

"Oi!" James yelped. "I don't want to shag you either, but I'm trying to make a point." Tired of his friend's nonsense, James walked over to the bed and yanked Remus' shirt right off. There, clear as day, was the worst injury Remus had gotten since October: three very clear claw marks on his abdomen.

"Now, if I were a bird and I saw that, I'd have more than a couple of questions. And the Remus _I _know would not want said bird asking these questions. The Remus I currently see," James said, pausing to see if any of this was actually catching, "Is in no such state to come up with any sort of lie."

"Oh," Sirius said, a bit despondent. He put down his drink and sat on the foot of Remus' bed. James had a point: with a clear head, Remus could come up with something clever. The drunken mess in front of him could not. Sirius always prided himself on not letting Remus' furry little problem get in the way of his being a normal teenager, but at the end of the day, it did to some degree. And to keep the rest of Remus' life normal, concessions had to be made.

"Moony, listen. Prongs has a point here. Sure, you'd be happy tonight, but you'd spend the rest of the week cursing yourself for letting this happen. You know that, right?"

Remus, however, was slower to see this point. This whole year had felt like a certain kind of normal and this might in particular, he had been able to forget what he was. It had felt amazing, and freeing, and to have this be a problem on his birthday...

"But it's not _fair_," Remus pouted quietly. He began to sit up, his tie falling to the wayside. Bleary eyed, he tried to see straight, and tried his best to understand the situation. "One night. All I wanted was one night where I could be _normal_, like you lot."

"And you _are_ normal," Sirius insisted. "Look, all you want to do is shag Marlene. Can you imagine third year Remus saying that? Can you even imagine saying that in September?" Remus paused his pouting. It was true what Sirius was telling him—he had in fact come a long way. "I get it, Moony. You're 16, Marlene's a looker, it's all normal. But tonight isn't going to be that night."

Remus pursed his lips, deep in thought. It wasn't fair. None of it was. But deep down he knew his friends were right. He could almost agree with them. Almost.

"Because I'm a _werewolf_," He spat.

James, who had been smiling, felt his face fall. He tried to think of some other reason, _anything _else. But he couldn't. If it were Sirius, he wouldn't have intervened. He knew that, Sirius knew that, and Remus knew that too. But before James could say anything, Sirius mustered up the courage to say what he absolutely hated even thinking.

"Yes, mate. This time, it's because you're a werewolf. But you know what else?" Remus' eyes narrowed. He was clearly miffed.

"What," he muttered.

"You're also more kind and understanding than anyone I know, because you're a werewolf. You make such an excellent friend, and bring something entirely wonderful to our little group, because you're a werewolf. James and I can't do it—we're as filthy rich as our bloods are pure, for whatever that's worth, but we are never going to be as brilliantly good as you are." Sirius felt a tear roll down his cheek, and he rolls his eyes. "Here I go, getting all sappy. I'll blame the drink. Look mate, there's a lot of bad that comes with what you've got, and for a while, I think that's all you've ever been told. But beneath all of that there's a silver lining—well, maybe not _silver_—but there's something positive that comes from all this."

Remus wiped at his nose. While he wasn't sure if he felt the same, the fact that Sirius, and an eagerly nodding James, did feel that way was worth a thousand shags.

"Another night," he whispered. "It'll happen another night." Remus looked up at his friends. Pausing, unsure of how to phrase the following question.

"But I'm not..._unshaggable_?"

James burst out laughing. He couldn't help himself. "No, mate, as objective as I can be, you aren't unshaggable. That belly of yours will get all patched up and you'll be good to go."

"Besides," Sirius added. "We've all gotten plenty of looks of what you've got down there. I think you'll do just fine with the ladies." Remus felt his face get hot. He had tried to forget that bit. "Now, are you feeling a bit better? Do you want to give your birthday toast? You've got an adoring crowd and they are dying to hear you," Sirius said with a grin. Remus, having perked up a bit, nodded, and began to slip on his shirt. The boys all left the bedroom after making sure Remus was straightened out and presentable.

"Make way for the birthday boy!" Sirius exclaimed, pushing Remus ahead of him. James rolled his eyes—the birthday boy could hardly walk into the common room. Sirius turned around, to give James an 'are you coming?' look and James replied,

"In a minute, Pads. Go on and start without me."

James knew something was wrong. As soon as he had stepped outside, he smelled a hint of lavender—a smell that had no place outside the room he shared with his friends.

"Evans," James said cooly. "I know you're here."

Lily's eyes widened. How did he...

"Your hair smells like lavender. It's a lovely smell, really, but not what I wanted to smell right now."

Lily had enough sense to know when she had been caught. When she had heard the boys stumbling out, she hid behind one of the tapestries hanging in the wall. Marlene had told her what happened, and Lily had come to tell James off—apparently, those giggles had been sobs and Marlene thought that Remus' friends had deemed her not good enough for the birthday boy.

"James, I—"

"How much did you hear," James asked, eyes staring right at she emerged.

"Everything," Lily whispered, "But James—"

"You tell a living soul—or a ghost, for that matter—about anything you may or may not have heard—"

"James," Lily interjected. "Listen to me: I've _known_. Two years, I've known. If I had wanted to say something, I would have, but I don't." James seemed to relax. Lily was able to continue. "He's my friend too."

"_Two years_?" James whispered. "And you never—"

"I figured Remus wouldn't want me to know," Lily said softly. She then seemed to squirm a bit. Clearly she was about to say something that made her uncomfortable.

"You're a good friend."

This gave James pause. He wasn't sure Lily had ever complimented him before.

"And so are you," He replied. "But Remus will want to talk to you. Not _now_, clearly, he's bonkers, but soon." Lily nodded.

"I completely understand. In the meantime..." Lily pursed her lips. "You can tell him Marlene would love nothing more than to spend more, er, _quality time_ with Remus...you know..."

James snorted. "He'll be most pleased, I'm sure. Now come along, Evans, we're missing Moony's speech. Unless of course _you_ want some quality time with _me_..." He added, eyebrows wiggling.

Lily rolled her eyes. Just as quickly as James could, in the most serious terms, defend his friend, he could go back to being a prat.

"Sod off, Potter."

The two walked back to the common room just in time to hear the last of Moony's speech.

"—And screw going to class, the party continues!"

James snickered. How very un-Moony. Still; he couldn't help but smile for something else. Whether or not Lily had realized it, she had called him James.


	11. Passing Notes

_1974_

* * *

The Marauders, while they weren't pranking or otherwise sneaking around, occasionally had to go to class. Of course, when they did go they often passed notes. James and Sirius generally dominated the conversations, as they often left Peter out and Remus preferred taking notes. But there were some days where Sirius and James were feeling particularly kind, or Remus felt he knew the subject material particularly well, and so they four successfully carried on conversations for most of the class, unnoticed. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, this happened quite frequently.

Remus had found a way to use a certain magic on their notes—if the professor, or anyone else, caught on, a simple tap on the paper would hide all that was written. Unless the reader knew exactly which words to say, a charm to reveal the actual words printed on the page would backfire, and rather than see the notes inscribed, the paper would simply insult whoever had tried to uncover its secrets. Particularly useful when your friends have a penchant for referencing certain things you would like to keep hidden.

"Now before we start class, I just want to remind you all of the mid-term essay you have due next week—I'm looking for two meters on a creature subject of course choice that we have covered so far. This could be grindylows, vampires, werewolves, anything like that. It is also up to you to decide the substance of your essay," Professor Dedalus, of Defense Against the Dark Arts, said. "Though please—try and focus away from simply identifying these creatures or where they are commonly found. Be creative," He drawled, "So that I don't get too bored reading them."

_Bit of a git, eh? -J_

_What makes you say that? -R_

_Assuming we would write something boring -J_

_Well, what were you going to write about James? -S_

_James? -R_

_Where to find grindylows -J_

_I'm with you, James. I was going to write about where to find boggarts -P_

_Pete, you find boggarts in trunks. How do you write two meters on that? -S_

_He has a point -R_

_See? Remus agrees with me -S_

_No, I meant Professor Dedalus. He's write, those sound like awfully boring papers -R_

_If you're so confident you can write something better, what's your topic? -J_

_Easy. Vampires and Werewolves: a Comparison of the Treatment of their Populations in 20__th__ Century Britain -R_

_Well you can't write about that –S_

_And why not? -R_

_Well, it's cheating -S_

_Cheating? Remus doesn't cheat -P_

_It's cheating because Remus doesn't have to do as much research as the rest of us -S_

_That's not cheating! -R_

_I'm curious: defend yourself, Remus -J_

_I'm simply tapping into a subject area I know quite well -R_

_The subject area is _you_, prat. That would be like James writing an essay on the legally blind -S_

_Oi! -J_

_That sounds like a great topic for James to cover if there was a class on glasses-wearing gits -R_

_Hey! I'm getting these messages! -J_

_We know; you're the judge of this debate, so we are trying to make the subject material relevant -S_

_Isn't that an argument for Remus' side? -P_

_Yes! Thank you, Pete. It's more interesting when its relevant -R_

_That is an excellent point, Sirius -J_

_Is not -S_

_Is too -R_

_It's still cheating -S_

_Would it be cheating if you wrote about werewolves? -R_

_Well, no -S_

_And why not? -R_

_Well, because I'm not exactly, you know, especially knowledgeable -S_

_Bullocks. You lot know plenty -R_

_I've decided on my new topic, in case you all are interested -J_

_Oh, do tell -S_

_Werewolves: Countdown to the Moon -J_

_You've got to be kidding -R_

_It's the perfect topic. I've got nearly three years of practical knowledge on the area and have the perfect interview lined up -J_

_I want to do my paper on werewolves too! -P_

_Mine will be on pubescent werewolves and whether or not they smell worse than pubescent purebloods -S_

_No, you can't do that -R_

_Why not? Is it…CHEATING? -S_

_Remus? -S_

_Got any thoughts mate? -J_

_It's not cheating, it's just an unprovable hypothesis -R_

_No it's not. Step one: smell your armpits. Step two: smell mine. Step three: conclude -S_

_You don't have nearly enough of a sample size of pubescent werewolves! -R_

_I've got you, haven't I? -S_

_But I'm not exactly representative of all other pubescent werewolves -R_

_Is Moony saying that he's super special? -J_

_Not super special, no, just not representative -R_

_That's just another way to say you're special, mate -S_

_Is not -R_

_Is too -S _

_So it's settled, then? Writing about what we know isn't cheating? -R_

_I suppose, under some circumstances, its not. But I'm only saying this because I didn't think of writing about werewolves before -S_

_Well, you're still not going to write about them now -R_

_And why not? It'll make all of our lives loads easier this week -J_

_Because it was my idea first. You're copying -R_

_Copying? Merlin's beard, Remus, you don't get a monopoly on essay topics -S_

_Not on all topics, no, just on this one -R_

_But why? -J_

_Remus? -S_

_Moony? -P_

_Because I deserve it! How many times does the worst thing about you actually turn out to be something useful in a class? Don't you think that maybe, just maybe, in writing about something I'm invested in, I feel that I can give a unique perspective that could get through to people? Change the way they think? -R_

_Moony's angry -P_

_I'm not angry -R_

_You're writing in your angry swirl -J_

_I don't have an angry swirl, I don't even know what that is -R_

_Look, mate, we won't write about werewolves. But that's not the worst thing about you -S_

_Oh, no? -R_

_Nah mate, it's your snoring. Something about the alignment of your nose is bonkers and it's really dreadful -S_

_I second Sirius, it's bloody awful -J_

_I have to throw pillows at you to get it to stop -P_

_Really? It's that bad? I'm sorry guys -R_

_Well it's no big deal. Pete's pillow thing works, we all mange to get to sleep -J_

_So let me get this straight—on a day to day basis, you lot are more concerned about my snoring than my being a werewolf? -R_

_Well, day to day, yes -S_

_I mean, we get concerned when you're unwell, but the snoring is every night -J_

_You're ridiculous. But it makes me feel like being kind…if you want to write about werewolves, write about werewolves -R_

_Well, we can't all write about werewolves -J_

_Oi, not this again. Why not, James? -S_

_Well, that's just suspicious. Why would we all be interested in the same thing? -J_

_Are you saying I'm not interesting? -R_

_No, Remus, you're very interesting—believe me. But not all Gryffindors are interesting—I mean, look at Peter—but I think Gryffindors in general are interesting -J_

_Hey! I read these! -P_

_We know -S_

_So what you're saying is…I'm not representative of the group as a whole? -R_

_Not this again -P_

_Well, in this case, I mean it's a bit sensitive, you've definitely opened up our eyes to the community as a whole and I can't say for a fact if you are or are not, well what I'm trying to say is, you're Remus is all -J_

_That made no sense -S_

_Yes it did. He thinks I'm special -R _

"Mr. Lupin!" Barked Professor Dedalus. Remus hadn't realized that he had been grinning. "Care to share what is so interesting to the class?" With a tap of his wand, the paper went blank, and Remus cleared his throat.

"Er, no sir, not particularly." The class erupted in laughter. Professor Dedalus was not amused. He marched over to Remus' desk and snatched the sheet from his hand.

"It's just a blank piece of paper, Professor," Remus said, a bit on edge. He was excited to see his magical craftsmanship at work.

"_Revelio_," The Professor said sternly. Nothing seemed to happen. But just a moment later, writing appeared, and Professor Dedalus began to read,

_"The Marauders kindly ask that Professor Gitalus keep his prying nose out of our well-taken notes._

_They remind Professor Gitalus that if he didn't want such boring papers, perhaps he should be teaching something more interesting._

_In particular, the Marauders kindly suggest that Pixies be eliminated from the third year curriculum, as they are particularly boring to learn about and are hardly dark creatures."_

The four boys snickered. Angry, Professor Dedalus crumpled up the paper and threw it on the floor. "Detention," He barked. "The four of you. My office, 6PM. Don't. Be. Late."


	12. The Day After 16

_1976_

* * *

"Oh Moooooony," Sirius sang. "You've got a visitooor." The floppy-haired Marauder opened up the curtains by Remus' bed, a stream of light flooding right into the sleeping werewolf's line of vision.

Remus groaned. He truly didn't know it was possible to feel so horrible after a night of _not _turning into a bloodthirsty animal.

"Rise and shine mate, it's nearly noon," James cooed.

"He looks worse than after the full moon," Peter whispered. James smacked him on the back of the head. "_Ow_!"

Remus pulled his pillow over his head, muttering into the cushion. Merlin, how long had he been sleeping? The three boys sitting at the foot of Remus' bed snickered.

"Mm not taking guests," Remus mumbled. "Come back later." Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, mate. The lovely lady is already here." Remus bolted upright, throwing his pillow to the side.

"Oh, god…" He muttered, feeling a sudden pang of nausea. "Marlene…" His eyes widened, and he instinctively grabbed at his abdomen. "Oh, Merlin, please don't tell me—"

"It's not Marlene," James assured him. "Don't worry, we'll fill you in later, but you didn't do anything with 'ol Marley to be worried about." Remus felt his heartbeat return back to its resting state.

"Oh, then who…"

"Hello, Remus," Lily said softly, coming into the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind her. "I brought you some muggle medicine—aspirin. It helps loads, but you should take it with some food and water." Her green eyes sparkled, and she held up a bar of chocolate. She walked over to his bed, perching on the nightstand.

"Lily…thank you," Remus said slowly. "What…what happened last night?"

James scoffed, Sirius snickered, and Peter turned a bit red. Remus turned to Lily. It looked like she would be the only one to give him a serious answer.

"Well," She began, "You had quite a bit to drink, and hit it off with Marlene—she won't stop talking about you, by the way," Lily smiled, and Remus turned positively red. "You had loads of fun, gave a grand speech about partying and missing class—"

"—_No_," Remus gasped. "Really?" He asked, couldn't believing what he was hearing. "That doesn't sound like me at all."

"You were also practically eating Marlene's face off, and when we asked her to leave you went off about wanting to _shag_ her—" Sirius started, but was cut off by James' hand over his mouth. Remus felt hot with shame.

"Oh…_no_…" He muttered, burying his face into his hands. "This is why I don't drink."

"Well, anyway," Lily continued, shooting the boys a glare, "You finally let us put you to bed and I volunteered to take your prefect shift today and next Friday." Remus froze.

"Next F-Friday?" He asked, nervous, coughing a bit. "Why ever…"

"Well, I didn't think you'd be up to it," She began calmly, "Seeing as you've got to turn into a werewolf and all."

Remus froze. He should've said something, _anything_, but the word wouldn't form, and his throat went dry.

"Oh, blimey," Sirius whispered. "He's gone catatonic."

"Remus," Lily said softly, taking his hand. "It's okay. I've known for years, really—ever since we learned about werewolves in third year. I put the pieces together, but it didn't change anything. You're my friend. Always have been, always will be."

Remus turned to the ginger witch. Years? She had known for years, and never said anything? Remus thought back to all the times they had studied together, walked the halls as prefects together, talked between classes…it all had been perfectly normal. He had no idea.

"You still—I mean, you don't care that I—"

"Turn into a werewolf?" Lily suggested. "No, not at all. You're _far_ more tolerable—"

"No," Remus whispered. "I don't _turn into_ a werewolf. I _am_ one. Every minute, of every day, I'm—"

"Remus John Lupin," Lily said forcefully, gripping his hand. "Do you have a snout? No. Are you furry all over? I assume not. And I'm sure Marlene would have told me if you had a tail," Lily chuckled "No, as far as I can tell, you're a boy—sorry, a _man_—who just happens to let loose every once and a while." Sirius snickered.

"And not only on the full moon, as it turns out," Peter added.

Remus shook his head, not believing what Lily was saying. Yes, he had accepted that the Marauders had accepted him. But he had also accepted them for all their quirks. Lily, though? What had he done in return for her?

"But, Lily…" Remus began. "I don't think you fully grasp the situation at hand. I mean, you didn't grow up…" Remus gulped. He was swimming into rough waters. He cleared his throat. "I just mean to say…er…"

"That I didn't grow up hearing about 'the dangers of lycanthropes?'" She suggested. "No, I didn't. You're right. But surely you know by now that I've got a decent head on my shoulders and I've figured out that gits in this world just don't understand that you're nothing to be afraid of. People in the muggle world have their own intolerances too, I'm sure your mum could tell you that. She's muggle-born, is she not?" Remus nodded his head. He hadn't really thought about that. It was different to learn about something when it affected your son, but at the end of the day it wasn't _all that_ different.

"All I'm trying to say is, nothing's changed. I'm still Lily, you're still Remus, and we're still friends."

_Still friends._ It was music to Remus' ears.

"Thank you," He said. "For everything. Including the aspirin and chocolate," Remus added with smile. "I am never, _ever_, getting that drunk again."

"Sure mate," James grinned. "Sure. So Evans: you, me, Moony and Marley? A double date would be quite fun," He teased. Lily rolled her eyes.

"Not in a million years, Potter. I'd better get going. Take care of yourself Remus," She said kindly, giving his hand a squeeze before standing up, heading out the door. But before she left, Lily turned around.

"Oh, Marlene wants to shag you too," She winked, and left the same way she came. Remus sat, motionless.

"_Moony_," Sirius cooed, "You bastard. You've got a lady friend!"

"Sod off, Sirius," Remus said sharply, though it was hard to take the red-in-the-face boy too seriously, especially grinning like he was.

"Let's get you some water," James suggested, "And you can take the…what did Evans call it again?"

"Aspirin," Remus chuckled. "So, I gather I was a right mess last night?"

"Mess is putting it kindly," Peter squeaked. "I thought you'd _hurl_."

"Nah, he's got a stronger stomach than that, mate," Sirius replied. "But Wormy's got a point—you definitely had a blast. Still, only low-level nonsense. Just like we promised." Remus sighed.

"Good." Then, his eyes flashed with a bit of excitement. "I still can't believe it," He said.

"What, Lily? Come on mate, like she told us earlier, she's known for years," James insisted.

"No, not Lily," Remus responded. "Marlene. She _fancies_ me. _Me_!" Remus exclaimed, giddy as can be. The boys laughed, and the banter of normal teenage boys once again filled the room.


	13. To the Sea

_1977_

* * *

In July before their sixth year, the Marauders went to the Potters' summer home near Dover. Remus had never even imagined having one house as nice as his friend's—much less two. Yet here he was, being whisked off on some sort of adventure. His parents had given him a little envelope of galleons to give to the Potters as a thank you for hosting. Remus hadn't the heart to tell them that James had absolutely refused to give it to his parents, and instead told Remus to use it for extra spending money. As James had explained, his family wouldn't accept it, and the Lupin's wouldn't accept it back, so the only options were to throw the money into the ocean or to keep it for himself. Remus opted for the latter, if rather begrudgingly.

The boys decided they would be lounging on the beach for the first day of their adventure. Something like this would have normally given Remus shivers down his spine, but ever since his friends had become animagi, the transformations had gotten so much better to the point where Remus hardly hurt himself at all. As a result, there were no new scars, and the old had faded tremendously. For the first time since he was four years old, Remus was excited to go to the seaside.

"Think any birds will be there?" Sirius asked as Remus was packing their bag for the day. The young werewolf rolled his eyes.

"Gee, mate, I don't know. I'm pretty sure only lads are allowed on the beach," Remus quipped. James laughed.

"Of course, Padfoot. Only thinking of the birds. As for me, I couldn't care less," James beamed. "I'm saving myself for Evans." Remus snorted.

"Yeah, a bit late to be saving yourself mate. I'm fairly certain that ship has sailed." James fumed mildly. "Still, a romantic sentiment. I, on the other hand," Remus said rather morosely. "Am single as can be."

"Things with Marlene are officially over?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah," Remus replied, "Turns out you can only stand a girl up so many times before she calls it quits. Word to the wise, ditching a girl to 'visit your mum' is not an attractive quality."

"Sorry Moony," Peter said rather sadly. Remus shrugged.

"It's alright. I would've had to break things off eventually anyways."

"Such a cad, Moony," James chuckled. _Something like that,_ Remus thought rather darkly. To be honest, he had rather liked Marlene. But who would want to be in a serious relationship with someone like him? It was hard enough on his parents. Remus wouldn't put anyone else in that sort of situation. He grabbed the sandwiches he had made earlier and added them to the beach bag, as well as some extra sunblock.

"Moony, we aren't going to _live_ on the beach. Think you've packed enough?" James asked. Remus rolled his eyes.

"If you hadn't noticed, Prongs, we're _British_. If _you_ want to burn your skin off you can, but I finally got skin I can actually show off and I'd like to keep it that way," Remus snapped.

"Got your beach body, Moony! I love the confidence," Sirius grinned, poking Remus in the chest.

"Alright, let's go. I'm getting sick of you lot," Remus said with a teasing smile.

The four boys left the house and strutted down to the seaside. Remus carried the supply bag, Sirius the chairs, and James the towels—Peter waddled behind them. They eventually came to a nice clearing on the beach, and Sirius dropped the chairs on the sand.

"This is it, boys. The best spot on the beach," He said with a grin. Of course, Sirius had picked a spot just downwind of a gaggle of girls. Remus rolled his eyes, but gave in—after all, these were just some muggle girls. If Sirius wanted to flirt, so be it. The boys laid out in the sun and tanned for a bit: Remus tried to read the book he had brought, but determined that no such thing would take place when Sirius was doing his best to distract him, claiming that reading was for school and beaching was no time for such things. Remus tried to explain that tons of people brought books to the beach, but his floppy-haired friend wasn't having it. At last, Remus decided to bring out something he had packed: a muggle football. His mum's brother Alfred had gotten it for him, and he figured that there was no better time to teach his restless friends to play than the present. Besides—They had never seen a football. Remus actually believed that, for once, he would have the athletic advantage here.

"So, you play…on land?" James asked, a bit confused.

"Yes, Prongs," Remus explained. "It's a muggle sport. They don't fly."

"And the goal is to get the ball into a net?" Sirius asked, a bit unsure how this was even a sport. "That doesn't seem too hard."

"Well, they're _muggles_, right?" Peter quipped. "I wouldn't expect them to have a complex game."

Remus couldn't wait to prove his mates wrong. Sure enough, the three other boys were horrible. They had never in their lives thought to ever kick a ball with their feet. Remus started them off with passing, which he had assumed would be simple enough, but it proved very challenging for the boys—perhaps the most so for Sirius. The only upside was that occasionally the ball would roll over near the girls, and Sirius would be the first to volunteer to retrieve it.

"I'm horrible at this," he spat. "The girls aren't going to be impressed."

"It's not about the girls," Remus explained calmly. "It's about learning something new, and spending quality time with your lads," he said, passing the ball to James who—miraculously—seemed to get the hang of it.

"So what if you aren't good? It's not like we're ever gonna play this," James said. "It's Quidditch that's important."

"I think Padfoot is just annoyed that Remus is more athletic than him," Peter suggested. He had opted out of the game and was content laying on the sand.

"Am not!" Sirius protested, as he readied himself for James' pass. "I'll give this thing a grand kick—you'll see," He said, preparing his stance.

"You ready mate?" James called out.

"Absolutely, Prongs," Sirius replied. Sure enough, James passed him the ball and Sirius kicked it immediately and without control. The ball flew through the air and hit Remus smack in the face.

"OW!" He yelped, clutching at his nose and falling onto the sand. "Pads, what the hell?" Remus said, muffled by his hands. As soon as he peeled them from his face, he looked down and saw the familiar sight of blood. Sirius' eyes widened.

"Remus! Oh, Remus, I _knew _nothing good would come of this blasted game," Sirius exclaimed. But before he could run to his friend, the gaggle of girls had been alerted and were already on the move.

"You poor thing!" The blonde of the group cooed. "Are you alright?" She asked.

"Your nose," Said the brunette, racing to kneel down next to Remus. "Here," She began, taking off her bandana, "Use this. I have loads at home." Remus took the bandana gladly, and she held it up to his nose.

"Thank you," He said, muffled. "I'm Remus," He said.

"Remus!" Cooed a third girl with raven-colored hair. "What an adorable name. I'm Lissa, that's Eve with the bandana, and that's Amber." Lissa knelt down next to Eve, placing a hand on Remus' shoulder, gasping slightly. "You poor thing! You're scarred!"

In any other situation, Remus would've shrunk away from the accusation. But these were _muggle girls_—they had no idea that was he was could even exist. He could tell them anything he wanted to. But before he could open his mouth:

"How could you hurt him when he's already recovering from some other accident?" Demanded Amber, glaring right at Sirius.

"Who, me?" The Marauder responded. "No, it was an accident! I didn't mean to kick the ball into his face!"

"Yeah," James said, rushing to his friend's defense. "It wasn't on purpose, and besides, Remus isn't recovering from _anything_," James insisted, giving Remus a meaningful glance.

"No, no I am," Remus insisted. He had quite enjoyed the attention from the girls. "These scars? Yeah, I was attacked by a wild animal," He explained. Sirius' eyes widened.

"_Mate_, what are you—"

"—It happened when we went camping in America. I was attacked by this huge bear, but Sirius here," Remus pointed to his friend, "Saved me in the nick of time. If he hadn't gotten there when he did, I doubt I'd be alive." Instantly, the three girls turned their attention to Sirius.

"You saved him?" Asked Lissa. "So, you're a right hero then?"

Sirius puffed out his chest. "Yeah, yeah I guess you could call me that. I only did what anyone would do, but I _did _save his life," Sirius admitted. Remus rolled his eyes, pulling the bandana from his nose so he could speak more clearly. The bleeding had subsided.

"He's just being modest. He had this whole plan to fight off the bear—got my lads James and Peter to help as well," Remus added.

"So _this_ cute little teddy helped save your life?" Amber asked Remus, though her eyes were on Peter, who turned a light shade of pink. Sirius snorted, but James elbowed him.

"Oh yes," James insisted. "He's a bit quiet but that came quite in handy—he could sneak up on the bear and spook it."

"Oh wow," Amber said, clearly in awe. The Marauders were getting the feeling that these might not be the sharpest girls on the beach.

"And what did you do, James?" Asked Eve, flashing him a look. James cleared his throat.

"Er, I…"

"He called the park ranger's office," Remus quickly interjected, standing up. "That's how he met his girlfriend—she was working for the park and took the call and was so impressed with his bravery."

"Oh, a girlfriend," Eve said, a bit dejected. "And I suppose the rest of you all have ladies—I mean, brave as you all were…"

"Oh no," Peter piped up. "We're actually single."

"It's hard to find girls who don't take advantage of us—you see, after the whole ordeal, girls just wanted to get with us to say they could," Sirius said, pretending to look a bit sad.

"Indeed," Remus added. "I mean, sure, we're brave, but no one ever really got to know how great of a listener Pete here was while I was in the hospital, nor did they appreciate how kind Sirius was to the nurses—dreadfully underpaid, they are—"

"_I'm _in _nursing_ school!" Exclaimed Eve. Remus feigned surprise. In fact, he had deduced that the bandana she had handed him was from a hospital, and the way she had pressed it up to his face reminded him so much of Madame Pomfrey that he would've been shocked if at least one person in her family wasn't in the medical profession. Sirius grinned.

"Well, it's Remus who's the bravest of all—going through what he did…it's challenging. Took a lot out of him. The fact that he's with us at the beach, finally able to enjoy himself…" Sirius drifted off. Whether the girls knew it or not, his words weren't far from the actual truth. "Well, it's spectacular. He ought to be proud of his scars, they're a sign of everything he's been through and survived," Sirius finished, giving Remus a meaningful look. The young werewolf turned a bit red.

"Oh, sweet boy…" Lissa cooed. "Say, we're having a little party at our place," She began, glancing at her friends. It became clear to the Marauders that said party had not existed up until a few moments ago. "You should come. Is there a phone we could ring?"

"Actually," Remus interrupted, the only one of his friends to really know what a phone was, "The line's off at our place. If you can just give us a time and a place, that's easiest." Lissa nodded, and Remus pulled a pen and paper out of the large beach bag he had packed—James and Sirius looking stunned that Remus would think to bring muggle equipment with.

"9PM. Don't be late," Lissa said, blowing Remus a kiss as she and her friends walked back to their site, giggling. James, Sirius, and Peter all looked at Moony incredulously. After the girls were out of earshot, they swarmed around him.

"Moony!" James cheered. "That was brilliant!"


	14. Two Detentions

_1971_

* * *

Earlier that day, four first-year Gryffindors brought a set of fireworks into transfiguration class. These four were Remus, Sirius, James and Peter. They had class with the Slytherins that day, and knew exactly where little Snivellus Snape would sit. All the had to do was arrive early and tape the fireworks to the bottom of the desk, and with one accurate wave of Remus' wand (the other boys were far too giddy to do it right), they assumed Professor Minerva McGonagall would think Snivellus had done it. Remus had his doubts, but the little eleven-year-old boy was simply so excited to have friends who wanted to include him in _anything_. He couldn't say no.

Sure enough, Snivellus sat exactly where the four boys assumed he would, and sure enough, Remus was able to change ever so slightly his wand movement during a practical session of class so that the fireworks would explode. But he didn't do it quite right—and on purpose, too—because he had realized that Severus could get hurt. And he didn't want that. The fireworks half-exploded, leaving the Snape boy stunned and angry, but absolutely unharmed. James, Sirius, and Peter didn't even seem to notice—they were chuckling. Remus turned bright red, and Minerva McGonagall didn't have to think twice. She had clearly _seen_ Mr. Lupin change the flick of his wand.

"Detention, Mr. Lupin," She said rather lazily. The three other boys snickered and gave their good friend Remus friendly pats on the back. Remus, however, froze: what would happen to him?

After class, Remus was about to leave when he heard:

"Mr. Lupin? A word."

"Ooo Remus, Minnie wants a woooord," sang Sirius Black, grinning. James whacked him on the head.

"You get your head out of the gutter. She's telling him about detention—that's all. Best of luck, there, Remmy," James cooed. "You really did us a solid there. Next time, you won't get caught. We promise."

"Promise," Peter squeaked. Remus sighed, looking at his friends rather darkly before turning around to face his professor.

"Mr. Lupin," McGonagall began. "My office, 8PM. Bring a quill and parchment: you'll be writing lines."

That night, Remus slowly walked up to his professor's office, and at 8PM sharp knocked on the door.

"Come in, Mr. Lupin," Minerva began. "You're right on time."

Remus walked in, looking sheepish, and silently took a seat in front of his professor.

"Now, Mr. Lupin, I must say I'm surprised," She began, looking severe as ever. "I didn't peg you as a troublemaker—I thought that was a term normally reserved for your friends." Remus looked down at the floor, unable to make eye contact with McGonagall. Minerva sighed. "That being said…The prank was supposed to harm young Mr. Snape, was it not? Only, you didn't let that happen. Do correct me if I'm wrong?" She asked. Remus shook his head.

"They never wanted to hurt him…just get him in trouble. But they never think things through," Remus said, a bit exasperated. "Clearly those fireworks could have blown him up. I should've stopped them, but…"

"But instead, you let them believe their plan had worked, likely stopping things from going further. I must say, Mr. Lupin, you have a funny way of misbehaving. I must say, I almost want to _give points_ to you for doing what you did," McGonagall said, her thin lips almost forming a smile.

"But I feel guilty!" Remus sputtered. "I...I wanted to do something fun with my new friends, but I just feel so bad about it," he tried to explain. Professor McGonagall pursed her lips together. Her severe look turned slightly less...severe.

"While you certainly broke a school rule, Mr. Lupin, no one was hurt," she explained. "There's no reason to feel guilty."

"It's not that, professor, it's...I'm lucky enough to be here and to have friends to begin with. If I act out...I feel like Professor Dumbledore put his trust in the wrong person."

"Remus, you're younger than you feel. You're allowed to make mistakes here. And with those friends of yours, I can't imagine this is the last time I'll see you in detention. But pranks and tom foolery are natural. You were accepted here as an 11-year-old wizard and that's exactly what we expect you to be."

"I'm not _like_ the others," Remus muttered morosely. "I shouldn't be treated like them."

"Remus Lupin, that is enough!" The professor exclaimed. "You are an exemplary young wizard and I won't have you sulking about like this. Hogwarts is your home—surely you've misbehaved at home?" McGonagall asked, staring straight at Remus. He gulped. It suddenly occurred to Minerva that perhaps this boy truly _didn't_ misbehave. "You do misbehave, don't you Mr. Lupin?" She asked kindly. Remus turned a bit pink.

"I…er…I don't _enjoy_ vacuuming…I told my mum I did it once, but I _didn't_ really…" Minerva chuckled.

"Then misbehave here like you would if you had to vacuum all of Hogwarts," She suggested. "And I'll be here to catch you, give you a slap on the wrist, and send you on your merry way. But you don't tell your friends—this offer does not extend to Messers. Black and Potter, I can tell you _that_ much."

"But Professor!" Remus yelped. "I…I broke a rule! I have to write lines!" Minerva pursed her thing lips together and nodded.

"Right you are. Grab your parchment and quill and write for me…100 times…_'Hogwarts is my home_.'"

* * *

Years later, a young Hufflepuff boy with tawny hair had released a stink bomb in a certain Defense Against the Dark Arts class, resulting in the Professor leading them out of the classroom for a more…_practical_ lesson. The first year Hufflepuffs, rather than learn about hags, were then led around the school in search of some. Having not identified any hags, the children were let go from class nearly a half an hour early—though, said tawny-haired boy did earn himself detention with a certain Professor Lupin.

At 8PM sharp, the boy entered Professor Lupin's office.

"Er…Professor?" The young boy asked, noticing a sort of fuming goblet on his professor's desk. "Are you…busy?" Remus simply beamed.

"Not at all, my boy! Come, sit," He said, motioning to the chair across from his desk. He noticed the boy's eyes shift to the Grindylow behind him. "I see you've met Albert—I promise you, he won't hurt you. Neither will this here," He said, motioning to the goblet in front of him. "I've just been feeling a bit under the weather. Sni—Severus, your potions master, has made a rather _unique_ little drink for me to help me feel better. I suppose I must drink it, but to be honest it tastes rather bland," He joked. "It's Ben, right? Please sit down."

Ben walked rather meekly to his professor and took a seat, unsure if the potion really did what his professor said—it looked ghastly. "I, er…I won't be…expelled, will I?" He asked timidly. Remus let out a rather hoarse laugh.

"_Expelled_? Merlin's beard, no," he began. "If every student who set off a stink bomb was expelled, I don't believe I would've made it past second year. Your last name is Colbert, is it not? I don't recognize the name…a fellow half-blood, are you?"

Ben, still rattled form learning his own professor once set off a stink bomb, tried to regain his composure. "Er…No, sir. Professor," He corrected, "I'm muggle born. I didn't mean to set off—"

"—I frankly don't believe you set off the little bomb at all," Remus suggested. "In fact, I am almost certain your good friend Alex set it off, and loyal as you are, you took the blame, knowing full well that he has not yet started his essay due for me tomorrow. A night of detention would set him back further. You, of course, have already finished _your_ essay. You'll correct me if I'm wrong?" He asked, raising a brow. Ben turned rather pink. Everything the professor had said was true.

"You won't…I mean…You won't get Alex in trouble, will you?" Ben asked. Remus smiled and shook his head.

"I took the fall for my friends many a time—and for far stricter professors, I might add. I'm sure they knew I didn't actually do half of what I said, but the never went after the true culprits. I would not be living up to my values if I didn't turn a blind eye. So, Ben, how do you like Hogwarts?"

"It's magnificent, sir," Ben replied hastily. "I've never been somewhere so wonderful. My mum and dad…well, they don't really understand it, in fact I'm not sure they want me here—I was accepted to Eton, you see. Family legacy and all, but I turned it down."

"Eton certainly is a fine school," Remus began, "But you made the right choice in my book. Nothing compares to the education here. When I was your age, my parents were also nervous about sending me here—I'm afraid they weren't sure I would fit in. But soon enough, Hogwarts became my home, and they couldn't be happier. I have no doubt your parents will feel the same," Remus insisted. "Now, what did I say you would be doing for detention again?"

"Er…writing lines, sir," Ben said. "You said—"

"I said what I said," Remus remarked rather nonchalantly. "I've decided on something else, if that's alright with you. Lines are rather boring, if I do say so myself. Since I was sick last month and have a bit of work to catch up on…why don't you help me with some grading?"

"Me?" Ben asked, shocked. "But—"

"You're one of the brightest students in your year, Ben, and this grading rather simple if I do say so myself. Some third years were instructed to write essays on identifying werewolves in my absence. Now, I know they are briefly covered in your first-year text, but given that I didn't actually _make_ the assignment, it seems cruel of me to grade them for accuracy. If the student wrote about werewolves at all, please do give them full credit. If they wrote about something else—grindylows, for example, give them half credit."

"But professor…" Ben trailed off. "Er, why did they write about werewolves if you didn't tell them to?" He asked. Remus chuckled, and took a drink from his goblet, making a rather disgusting sound having consumed it all in one gulp.

"Honestly, Ben, I haven't the foggiest," He smiled. "Just do one more thing for me, if you would," He began. Ben nodded fervently. "Please, and never forget this: Hogwarts is your home."


	15. What Snivellus Said, What Sirius Did

_1975_

* * *

Remus buried his head under the covers of his four-post bed, not ever wanting to come out ever again. His friend. His _best friend_ tried to make him into a murderer. If James hadn't saved that sorry son of a…

"Remus, you've got to get up. It's nearly noon, we have to meet with Dumbledore and Minnie," James said quietly. Remus didn't budge. He simply laid in the bed, covers still covering his body like a corpse. James simply sighed.

"Remus…"

"I'm not going," Remus said, pulling the covers just under his chin. "If I don't go, it isn't real. I'm not going."

James narrowed his eyes. The bugger was always stubborn after the full moon, but this was a new level. "Remus—"

"I'm not going, James," Remus said hoarsely, using the boy's given name for the first time in…months? Years? It seemed wrong to call themselves the Marauders after all that had happened.

"Well you can't stay in bed. How do you suppose you'll go to class?" James quipped.

"I won't be going to class," Remus whispered. "I'm going to be _expelled_."

"Bullocks," James scoffed. "You're not going anywhere. If anyone is going to be expelled, you and I both know that S—"

"Don't. Say. His. Name." Remus seethed. James rolled his eyes.

"You're going to have to—"

"I DON'T!" Remus yelled, sitting up as the covers rolled away. Remus stared at James with his puffy, red eyes: he had been crying all night. James' eyes widened. He had never seen Remus…so angry. Quickly, the young werewolf retreated.

"I'm sorry…It's not your fault, Prongs. You did everything you could."

"No, I didn't," James spat. "I should've stopped him…I should've known. We're supposed to be friends—or, where friends, with that bugger at least."

"You can still be his friend," Remus said softly. "Just because I'm not, doesn't mean—"

"You think I want to be friends with someone who would do that to you?" James asked angrily. "Absolutely not. Hasn't shown his face all day. When we go see Dumb—"

"When _you_ see Dumbledore—"

"When _we go_, now, preferably, unless you want to be late, we'll have to see him. Peter's the only one talking to him, that little rat—"

"It's not Peter's fault, he's desperate for friends," Remus said, slowly rising out of bed, joints creaking. If only he could say it wasn't Sirius' fault. What that boy was thinking, Remus would never know. James grabbed Remus' clothes off the floor, knowing the pain it would cause it friend to grab them himself, and tossed them on the bed in silence. Remus slowly put on his robe, and didn't even bother brushing his hair or looking in a mirror—he knew he wouldn't like what he saw.

"Come on," Remus said, rather sadly. "Let's go get expelled."

The two boys walked out of their dorm and into the common room, not stopping to make eye contact with anyone or even say hello. They walked down the hallway to the grand entrance of Dumbledore's office—a place Remus once associated with the miracle that let him in Hogwarts to begin with. _And now I'll be leaving it the same way—fitting_, Remus thought morosely. From the other side of the hallway, the two boys saw McGonagall approaching. She gave them a severe look and a tight nod, before leading them up the stairs to their headmaster's office.

"Mr. Black, Mr. Snape, and, for whatever reason, Mr. Pettigrew are already there."

Remus let out an audible groan, leading James to put his arm around his dear friend, who was finding all the stairs quite challenging. Finally, they made it to Dumbledore's office itself. Sirius, who had been sitting in a chair directly opposite the old headmaster, instantly rose. His eyes, too, were red and puffy.

"Moony, mate, I—"

"Don't speak to me," Remus said cooly. "_Ever_." The look on Sirius' face could only be described as depressed. Even McGonagall turned to Remus with slightly widened eyes. She had never heard the boy speak to his friend that way. Sirius sat back down, Snape smiling somewhat, which angered James greatly.

"Boys, Minerva, please, have a seat," Albus said quietly, motioning to three chairs which seemed to have appeared from nowhere. Remus took his seat with James' help, the other boy following suit. "I assume we don't need to go over why we are here—"

"That _monster_," Snape fumed, pointing at Remus, "Tried to kill me—"

"The only monster is Sirius," James insisted, glaring at the boy he once called a brother. "You call Remus a monster one more time—"

"Shut _up_, James," Remus spat.

"Boys," Albus said, peering behind his half-moon spectacles. "Now is not the time. We are simply here to discuss the consequences—"

"That werewolf should be _expelled_!" Snape exclaimed. "They _all_ should be—"

"ENOUGH!" Albus bellowed, silencing and shocking everyone into silence. "Absolutely no one is being expelled, monthly illness or not."

Remus was shocked. "But sir…I…"

"Did nothing wrong," Albus insisted, shooting Snape a glare to make sure he said nothing. "You are here to know what is to transpire, nothing more. There was nothing you could've done, Mr. Lupin." Albus turned to Minerva.

"Under the circumstances, a primary concern is that Mr. Lupin's condition remain that—a condition. Anyone, and I mean _anyone_, who lets the truth of his condition slip will in fact be expelled. As an educator, my primary purpose is to give an education to _all_ who want it." He paused, glancing at the five boys.

"Mr. Potter," he began, turning to James. "Your actions last night were brave—dangerous, but brave. I can hardly give you credit for what you've done, but Mr. Snape does in fact owe you his life—as does Mr. Lupin. You are a good friend. Mr. Pettigrew," He said, turning to the plump boy. "As Mr. Black has insisted you had nothing to do with what transpired, you will neither be punished nor rewarded. Now, Mr. Black," Albus turned to the boy, who he had never seen so silent in his life. "By all accounts, you should feel very lucky to remain a student here at Hogwarts." Remus snorted. Dumbledore turned, then, to the young werewolf.

"Mr. Lupin, you have something to add?"

Remus narrowed his eyes, which were positively amber. "I have nothing to say to _Mr. Black_," he sneered.

"Moony," Sirius pleaded, "Please—"

"You think that will work on me?" Remus asked, bristling and shaking as he rose from his seat. "We're done. Completely. Thanks to you, I nearly lost _everything_. You want me in _Azbakan_, Sirius? You think that's where I _belong_? You're no better than those pure-blood twats you call parents, you attempted to _murder a fellow student_, who, by the way, I'll be _shocked_ to see not tell the whole school about what I am, and _then_ what?"

"And so the monster comes out…" Snape drawled, nearly about to laugh before he felt a hand on his throat. Sirius was furious.

"You say _one thing_ about Remus and I'll drag you into the hole you belong, _Snivellus_—"

"ENOUGH!" Albus yelled again. "Enough. Mr. Black, you will be serving detention for the rest of the school year. My office, every night. 8PM sharp. You will be given one night of freedom per month—use it wisely," Albus said, knowing what the Marauders were up to every full moon. "Now, Mr. Snape. You are in no trouble and I am grateful you are here unscathed. But I would not be doing my job if I did not reprimand you for your behavior towards Mr. Lupin. I'm sure you have many secrets which you would not like the school to know. I am not asking you to be civil; I am demanding it. Are we clear?"

Snape, clearly annoyed, nodded, but not before flashing a warning glare to Remus. Albus nodded.

"Now, boys, you may go—except for Mr. Lupin."

Remus took his seat, and watched as his three friends rose. Sirius tried to touch his shoulder, but Remus shook him off. James, and Petr, glared at Sirius and marched out ahead of him. The floppy-haired boy sulked behind them, with Snape following close behind. When albus was certain they left, he turned to Remus, eyes narrow.

"You have every right to be angry with young Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin. But I must ask you to find it in your heart to forgive him."

"I'll do no such thing," Remus spat. "I'm lucky to be here in the first place—Mr. Black knows—sorry—_knew_ this. And look at what he did. How can I forgive him?"

"Mr. Lupin," Minerva chimed in. "It is our understanding that Sirius—_Mr. Black_—was somehow aiming to protect you. Mr. Snape may have said some…_unkind_ things to you. According to Mr. Black, and you must excuse me for saying these words, Mr. Snape said…" She drifted off and cleared her throat. "Mr. Snape said you were an abomination in the magical community, had no place in Hogwarts, and threatened to tell the whole school what you were so that his Slytherin classmates and Mr. Black's family could…" She trailed off an began to whisper. "'_Kill you like the animal you are_.'"

Remus froze. He had never heard anyone from his own generation say things so _hateful_. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say, except, rather meekly.

"Severus would never—"

"He did," Albus said plainly. "And had I been alerted earlier, Mr. Snape would have surely received some sort of punishment. As it stands…I'm sorry, Mr. Lupin. My hands are tied." Remus shook his head.

"I nearly…I nearly _killed_ him. That's worse than anyone deserves. I just can't believe…I mean, we're _classmates_…"

"Not everyone is an open-minded as your friends, Mr. Lupin. As much as it pains me to say this…they _are_ good boys," Minerva insisted. "While Mr. Black certainly was not thinking straight, anger makes people say and do things they don't mean. You would do well to remember that, Mr. Lupin, when you forgive him."

Suddenly, as if breaking out of a trance, Remus replayed his words in his mind.

"I…I told him he was like his…" Remus' eyes widened. "_Merlin_, I have to talk to him. I have to…" He trailed off, looking impatiently at his professors. "Can I?"

"I assume Mr. Black is waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs," Albus said kindly, his eyes now twinkling. "You may leave, Remus."

Without another word, Remus ran—well, as close to ran as he could—down the stairs and out of Dumbledore's office where, sure enough, Sirius was waiting at the bottom of the stairs—just like the headmaster had said. Sirius' eyes lit up.

"Remus, I—"

Remus flung his arms around his friend in as strong a hug as he could muster.

"Don't you ever, _ever_, scare me like that again, Pads. They told me everything _Snivellus_ said—I would've done the same if it had been you he said those things about."

"You wouldn't have," Sirius mumbled. "You are smarter." Remus snorted, sniffling a bit.

"You're right. But you were just standing up for me…for your friend, if you'll still have me."

"Don't be thick," Sirius teased. "You're my best furry friend. And no one is ever going to say what that twat said about you _ever again_."


	16. Page 394

_1974_

* * *

On a Friday in third year, only three Marauders made it to class. Remus, ill from the full moon being that day, had to miss his classes—he was particularly anxious, due mostly to the fact that while he was gone, his classmates would be learning about his most dreaded subject in Defense Against the Dark Arts: werewolves. Just the thought of it made him sicker than usual. Luckily for Remus, his friends had constructed a plan to ensure that no one really learned anything in class that day.

James entered the classroom first, striding in confidently and followed closely by Sirius Black. Peter, as usual, lagged behind. The three boys sat together, this time in the front row, so that they would have the closest attention of Professor Dedalus. Lily Evans, who normally sat in the front row, was utterly confused. She entered the classroom and sat behind the Marauders, eyeing them suspiciously. As students filtered in, Dedalus entered in from his office.

"Today, we will be starting our unit on…Oh let's see here…" He shifted around some papers in his hands. "Werewolves. Now, please open up your books to page 394 and I will be taking volunteers to read—"

Sirius shot his hand up. Professor Dedalus looked utterly perplexed. The Black boy _never_ participated in class. Well, unless you counted dung-bombs and passing notes as participating.

"Er…Mr. Black, you have a question?" The professor asked. Sirius shook his head.

"No, professor. I would like to read—you are taking volunteers?"

Dedalus looked stunned. "Er…yes. Uh, go ahead, Mr. Black..."

"Right then," Sirius began proudly, clearing his throat. "Werewolves are a dark creature that can be distinguished from humans by their…Well, this isn't right," Sirius said, cutting himself off. "Werewolves are humans—they are just sick. I'll go ahead and skip down a bit—"

"Mr. Black," Deadlus interjected. "Please, read what is on the page."

"I am!" Sirius insisted. "I'm just proofreading—right, where was I…No, this bit goes on about their danger—really, I don't see how they are more dangerous than a _normal _wolf—alright then, here we go: they are only dangerous when transformed on the full moon. At any other time, they appear as _normal wizards_," He finished, looking proud. Dedalus narrowed his eyes.

"Well, Mr. Black, you certainly read…something. Would anyone else like to take over—"

Peter's hand shot up. Dedalus sighed. He wasn't sure what was going to happen next.

"Yes, Mr. Pettigrew? Go ahead…"

"Right, so it says here," Peter squeaked, "That werewolves don't generally mate—that seems a bit wrong, doesn't it? I mean, mate is a word for _animals_ shagging—"

"Mr. Pettigrew!" Dedalus exclaimed. The other students giggled. "That is _not_—"

"I'm just saying, it seems _wrong_…Can't we say that werewolves don't often _shag_?"

"We will certainly…" the professor sighed. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"While I know werewolves don't _normally_ shag—"

"Mr. Potter!"

"—I actually read that werewolves who did…you know…at the full moon once gave birth to some cubs. I think that's very sweet," James remarked, adjusting his glasses. Professor Dedalus pursed his lips.

"That's…_actually_ true," he said, somewhat astonished. "And actually, somewhat nice—yes, that is true. There is one reported case of a rather intelligent bunch of wolf cubs being born to werewolf parents. Very fascinating, but I'm afraid we are getting off topic. Would anyone like to read about how to identify…" He sighed again. Mr. Black was raising his hand. "Yes, Mr. Black?" the professor asked, somewhat annoyed.

"There isn't really a way to identify werewolves, is there? I mean, as wolves they don't look all that different, and then as humans they look just like you or me. I mean, they aren't all that different, are they? They just have a little issue with lunar cycles—much like _birds_, if I'm going to be—"

"That…is _somewhat_ true," Dedalus conceded. "But there are signs: Illness around—"

"Well, everyone gets ill!" James exclaimed. "I mean, _I'm_ a bit under the weather right now but I don't think I'm a _werewolf_," he reasoned. "Sirius is a bit rough on the eyes, but we don't go around calling him a _hag_—"

"Oi!" Sirius yelped, elbowing James. "I am _beautiful_—"

"You're average at best—"

"Boys!" Professor Dedalus bellowed. "Please, stop this, and pay attention to the lesson. Since reading aloud is simply not working, I would like everyone to—_silently_—read pages 394 to 397 _by themselves_."

The three boys looked at each other and bunkered down into their books. Other students did the same. This lasted for approximately 40 seconds before Sirius began humming. James tapped his quill on the desk, and Peter started stomping his feet. Some students looked over, but it was all quiet enough that Professor Dedalus could ignore it and pretend the boys were reading. However, Sirius hummed louder and Peter continued stomping his feet. James stood up on the desk, and turned around, facing other students.

"Mr. Potter," Dedalus began, "Please sit—"

"Lily Evans!" James shouted. "It has come to my attention that I haven't professed my love to you yet this week—"

"Potter," Lily fumed. "Sit down—"

"Oh Lily, Lily, Lily…_Sweet _Lilypad—"

"Mr. Potter!" Dedalus yelled.

"Oh how to compare thee to a summer's day…thou art far lovelier and more shaggable—"

"MR. POTTER!" Dedalus yelled. "Detention—my office, 7PM."

"If you are going to give Mr. Potter detention," Sirius began, also standing up on his desk, "Then I deserve it too! _Sweet Marlene_—"

"Detention!" Dedalus shouted, face glowing red. Peter shuffled his feet and stood up—though he lacked the coordination to stand up on his desk.

"I would like detention too!" He quipped. The professor, angry, acquiesced.

"All _three _of you! Detention, 7PM! I can't deal with you…" He seethed. "Class dismissed, please read up on werewolves for class on Monday…" Dedalus stomped out of the classroom, likely gone to complain to Albus Dumbledore. James and Sirius high-fived and Peter smiled as the three packed their bags and started to leave the classroom.

Lily Evans was dumbfounded. She had never, ever, had a class cancelled midway through as a result of the Marauders. All, at least, except for Remus. Unlike her other classmates, Lily had done the readings before class. She doubted anyone else would read the chapter, but she was beginning to think that had been the goals of those _prats_ all along. Remus wasn't here. It was the full moon. He had looked sick a few days ago and his scar that she had seen that day at the lake…

Lily began to pack her things, bit did so slowly. She hated to even think it, but those boys were _genius_—disguising a helpful act of friendship as a classic Marauder prank. They wouldn't even mind having detention—it would be something to take their minds off their friend's pain. So, Remus was a werewolf. And now no one in their year would learn how to recognize him—no one except for Lily. The more she thought about it, the less she cared. Remus was her friend, and as Lily walked out of the classroom, she knew that would never change


	17. The Marauder's Map

_1976_

* * *

Remus had spent the greater part of the past few days working in the library on a project not even remotely related to his schoolwork; even he was surprised by this. Ever since his friends had become Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, he had wanted to do something for them. For the _Marauders_. He and the boys had been mapping out the passages around Hogwarts for years, and Remus had a few secret ones himself thanks to his need to sneak in and out of the castle at various times during the month. It was quite obvious what Remus should make as a present: a map.

Of course, this wouldn't be just any map. In order to make it useful for sneaking, you had to make sure you weren't caught. Remus, therefore, had learned about a charm that could be used to track people walking about the halls. It wouldn't work for most rooms, given Hogwarts' cloaking spells, but hallways didn't have this issue—and hallways were where they were always caught in the first place. Between this map and James' cloak, the boys would be unstoppable for the remainder of their time at school. There were just some finishing touches that Remus needed his friends' help with.

One thing Remus liked to do was keep things secret. Furthermore, he enjoyed making sure that if someone did try to uncover his secrets, they were turned away. He had used this spell before on class notes and his journals: if someone tried to read his things, he made the parchment insult them with Remus' own written voice. Of course, to teach a parchment how to behave like a person, you had to talk to it and train it to your voice. He had done this a bit with his friends, but for a piece of this complexity he would need each of the Marauders to take turns teaching the map.

Remus put down his quill and smiled. The Marauder's Map, as he had called it, was nearly finished. It certainly needed some more artistic touches, which Sirius and James could put on, and he assumed the boys would want to add some of their own ideas. However, as far as gifts went, Remus was sur this would be a home run. Six months prior to that day was the Marauder's first "nightly romp" during the full moon. Every month since had gone just as well, much to Remus' surprise, and he was happier and healthier than he had ever been during his life as a werewolf.

Standing up, Remus stowed the map in his robe and gathered his things, exiting the library. He turned the corner and began to head to the Gryffindor common room before he paused. He should check and make sure everything worked.

_"Open me," _Remus whispered, tapping his wand to the parchment he had discreetly taken from his pocket. Sure enough, the fanciful scrawl appeared, and Remus opened the map. There it showed his name floating right outside the library. The boy smiled and re-stowed the map once more, continuing on his way.

Eventually, Remus arrived in the common room. His friends were nowhere to be seen, which meant they must be in their room. Remus grinned and bounded up the stairs, opening the door.

"Boys! Do I have a surprise for you!" He exclaimed.

Pete, who had been napping, groggily sat up. James had been writing a love letter to Lily on his bed, and Sirius had been…well, it looked like he had literally been twiddling his thumbs, sitting on the floor. All four Marauders smiled.

"A surprise, Moony?" Sirius quipped. "Don't you think you've surprised us enough?" He joked.

"First the whole furry problem, then the fact that you actually do look at girls occasionally—" James was cut off.

"A real surprise," Remus said, rolling his eyes. "Not one that you already knew." Sirius' face lit up.

"Oh, _Moony_, do tell us," he pleaded. Peter nodded vigorously, and James patted on his bed.

"Marauders, circle up."

Peter climbed to the edge of his bed, Sirius got off the floor and jumped nearly on top of James, and Remus calmly took a seat at the foot of Peter's bed, smiling. Remus unleashed the blank parchment from his cloak. The boys' faces fell slightly.

"Oh, Moony…parchment," Sirius began, trying to sound excited. "It looks, er…"

"It's not parchment," Remus said, rolling his eyes, "It's a thank you—these past six months have been healthier, happier, and the best I've had since I was four. I feel like a real person again—"

"You are a real person," James insisted, poking Remus in the chest. "And you best not forget it—"

"Yes, yes," Remus said lazily. "Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you and let you all know how much I appreciate what you've done. So, I made you something."

Remus took out his wand and tapped the parchment gently.

"_Open me_," he said softly. James grabbed the map and grinned, reading aloud.

_"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs proudly present the Marauder's Map."_

"The Marauder's Map?" Peter asked. "What is that?"

"Open it, Prongs!" Remus said gleefully. "It's a map of Hogwarts—charms tell you where everyone in the hallways are at any given time, and it has all the hidden passageways we've been mapping out for years—and a couple I've kept a secret," He added mischievously.

James opened the map and began showing it to the other boys.

"Look!" Sirius yelped. "There's Minnie patrolling the hall," He said, pointing to her name slowly moving down past Dumbledore's office. Moony, mate, this is—"

"Brilliant," James grinned, looking Remus right in the eye. "Absolutely brilliant. And you did this all for us?"

Remus nodded. "It's my way of saying thanks—and we can all use it. Whenever you're done, just tap it with your wand and say '_Fini_' and the whole map goes blank—just like our notes we pass in class. I've added the bit where it insults those who try and read it too, but I need your help—the map needs to learn our voices and personalities. I've done mine, but yours…" Remus sighed. He took the map from James, whispered 'fini' and then tapped his wand again, saying:

"_Revelio_."

Remus' own scrawl began to float across the map.

_Mr. Moony is wondering why he forgot how to get into his own bloody map._

_Mr. Prongs has glasses and is in love with Evans._

_Mr. Padfoot is a member of the Black family._

_Mr. Wormtail is Peter Pettigrew._

James snorted, Sirius laughed, and Peter crossed his arms.

"Hey! You know more about me than my name!" He insisted. Remus rolled his eyes.

"I put in placeholders—it's up to you guys to add more about yourself, just like you did for our notes," he explained.

"Oh," Peter said quietly. "Well, let me see that then—what's the charm you used for this one to start speaking to it?"

"'Marauders,'" Remus said.

"Wait a moment," Sirius began, "Can we change the opening and closing charms as well?" Remus nodded and Sirius continued. "Right, so how about we make the first bit 'I am up to no good?'" He suggested. James' eyes lit up.

"I _solemnly_ swear I am up to no good," He added. Remus grinned.

"And we can change the closing to something more us…how about 'mischief managed?'"

"Brilliant!" James exclaimed. "I love it. Moony, you are incredible," he said, beaming at his friend. "Here, let me add some stuff," he said, taking the map back from Remus.

"_Marauders_," He said, taking out his own wand and tapping the map. "Mr. Prongs is most in favor of all tings mischief, and he absolutely detests Severus Snape—who must be referred to at all times by his true name, _Snivellus_."

"Well hang on," Sirius began, "How can we call ourselves in favor is mischief when we are the only ones using this map? One day, there will be a little Prongslet, Moony cub, Padfoot puppy and, I don't know, _maybe_ a little Pete—"

"Hey!" Peter squeaked.

"—and they'll need to use this map. Is there a way to determine who is worthy, and how to let them figure out how to use the map?" Sirius asked. Remus pursed his lips.

"I suppose…it would be complicated, and I don't think we could limit it to…" he rolled his eyes. "Biological successors. No way are Pete and I going to have _kids_," Remus joked, "So someone has to take over for us. Still," he paused. "I think it could be possible."

"Excellent!" James exclaimed, but Sirius looked puzzled.

"Moony…no kids?" He asked, a bit puzzled. Remus shrugged.

"No werewolf has ever had a human child," he explained. "What am I supposed to do—go walking a wolf cub on a leash? And even if I did have a human child…it would be like _me_."

James rolled his eyes. "Well of course he would be—he's half yours, isn't he?" James joked. Remus shook his head, and looked at his friends a bit darkly. James' face fell. "Oh…" He drifted off. "You mean—"

"I can't bear the thought of having a child grow up, from day one, and be a werewolf—it wouldn't be right," he said softly. "It was hard enough going through that as a young kid. A baby would surely die from its injuries," Remus explained, clearing his throat. "If it didn't kill its mother first."

The boys fell silent. They hadn't really thought of that. Remus smiled softly, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, cheer up," He said, trying to be joyful. "I'd be a wonderful godfather. And besides, I'd have to actually get someone to _shag_ me first, which means I'd have to look at a girl," He grinned, "Which we all know is impossible."

Sirius put a hand on Remus' shoulder. "Your kid might not, you know. I mean, has anyone else with a furry little problem even _tried_?" He asked. Remus shrugged, causing Sirius to grin. "See! You don't know this for sure."

Of course, Remus' own son would be just fine—a bit irritable and sore at times before the moon, but overall fine—and it never caused Tonks any problems. The only thing young Teddy would complain about was the interest his Defense professor would take in him—wanting to get some sort of blood sample, getting overly excited by Teddy's existence and wanting to study him like some sort of creature on display. Eventually, the boy had to go to McGonagall's office and complain: _"Minnie, I'm a half-werewolf metamorphmagus. I get that I'm special, and brilliant, and oh so wonderful, but I'm a human boy just like the rest of 'em. My professor can't prod me like he does." _

Of course, Remus would never know any of this, so he just rolled his eyes at Sirius.

"Let's get back to the map," James suggested. "We've got loads to tell it."

For the rest of the day, the four Marauders finished up their map and began discussing how to put it to good use. Peter even managed to add some bits about himself, though not nearly as much as the others—as a result, he never managed to say much in map-form. Years later, Remus would eventually rid the map of all evidence of Peter, claiming the boy the map knew no longer existed. Sirius, the last remaining Marauder, had no problem with this whatsoever, and it could not be said anyone missed Peter's input much.

**Last bit was hard to write...I hate Pettigrew and could not stand having him in the map.**


	18. Moony's Real Job

_1978_

* * *

In August, before their seventh and final year at Hogwarts, three of the four Marauders went swimming. The lake felt cool and refreshing—a change from the tumultuous world around them. A war was starting, and all three boys felt it.

Of course, it hardly looked like there was a war going on when there were three teenage boys swimming around in their boxers. They were in the shallow part of the lake, feet able to touch the ground, but that didn't stop Sirius Black from showing off his swimming abilities. He would splash about, much to the annoyance of his friends, and dive under the water to pick up bits of kelp to 'feed' to Remus.

"I'm not an otter," the werewolf huffed.

James, meanwhile, was floating on his back, admiring the stars. He was feeling quite at ease until Sirius Black opened his loud mouth.

"So, what _are_ we all doing after graduation?" Sirius asked suddenly.

James glared at him, eyeing Remus. It was _supposedly_ known that the boy wouldn't be able to get a job in the wizarding world after graduation. After Remus' little outburst at the end of sixth year, it had become a bit of a taboo subject. The young werewolf had been particularly moody and insisted that he would never get a job, lose all his friends, and die alone in a _hole_. His friends had not reacted particularly well to that and it resulted in a bit of a screaming match.

Sirius narrowed his eyes right back at James, then glanced at a grinning Remus, giving him a nod.

"Oi, what's going on?" James asked, utterly confused. Remus cleared his throat.

"I got a job. A _real job_—I mean, I won't be paid, but—"

"He's gonna be in the _Order_!" Sirius whisper shouted. "Dumbledore's got him on some secret mission—"

"What mission?" James asked, eyes bulging out of his head. "Moony, this is incredible!" James exclaimed. "Think you can get us in the Order, huh? Now that you're a big shot?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "You two could probably manage getting in just fine without me," he assured the two boys. "It's not really _official_ order business—"

"Bullocks!" Said Sirius. "That not what you told _me_ earlier," he said with a wink, causing James to groan.

"And I suppose I was just supposed to be kept in the dark?" the bespectacled boy asked. Remus laughed.

"Well, you've been so_ touchy_ about my plans after graduation, I thought it would be fun to surprise you a bit," Remus explained.

"_I've_ been touchy?!" James yelped. Remus chuckled.

"Alright,_ I_ was touchy first," he admitted. "I'm just so bloody _excited_—"

"What will you be doing?" James asked eagerly. Remus began shifting his gaze around the lake, as if someone was watching him. His excitement fell a bit, and Sirius picked up on this instantly.

"Remus," he began, "If you don't want to tell us—"

"I do," Remus said quietly. "Dumbledore told me to tell my closest friends, in case…" he gulped.

"That won't happen," James assured his friend. "Your secrets, all of them, are always safe with us," he smiled. Remus, in turn, smiled faintly.

"Alright," he began. "Just…promise to stay excited for me, yeah?" He asked. The other boys rolled their eyes.

"Of course, you git," Sirius retorted. Remus cleared his throat.

"I'm…going undercover—"

"Undercover sounds fun!" James exclaimed. Remus smiled softly.

"With _werewolves_," he finished. James and Sirius' jaws dropped.

"You can't be serious," the floppy-haired boy began. "You can't do that, it's too—"

"Dangerous?" Remus quipped. "Are you finally admitting that I'm dangerous?" He asked, a bit comically. Sirius groaned. That certainly wasn't what he meant.

"Not _you_, git—them. We've told you again and again, you don't fit in there," he explained. James nodded.

"You're not one of—"

"I _am_," Remus insisted. "Yes, I'm more educated, a _bit_ kinder, but at the end of the day I am one of them, and You-Know-Who is recruiting. If I can get even just a _few _fellow werewolves—"

"Don't _call _them that!" James hissed. "_We're_ your fellows, not _them_," he spat. "Can't Dumbledore get you some other—"

"Dumbledore has done _more_ than enough," Remus said coolly. "This is an opportunity of a lifetime—a chance to be useful in a way few can be. I'm one of a kind, essentially: straddling both worlds. I can convince them that there's another way," he explained. "Can't you lot be excited?"

Sirius looked at Remus sadly. "I'm excited, Moons, really…but when will we get to see you?" He asked. "I mean, you'll be gone…we won't be able to help you…"

"That should be the least of your concerns," Remus insisted. "There's a reason that werewolves have _packs_," he said bitterly. "And while I far prefer _you lot_—"

"You'd better," James quipped.

"—it's better than being alone," Remus whispered. Sirius grabbed Remus.

"You aren't alone," he insisted. "You'll never be alone—I won't let that happen."

"_We_ won't," James corrected, splashing Sirius. "Besides, it's been decided: Sirius and I will be joining you in the Order, and we'll drag Petey along with us. Nothing will change," he insisted. "Except we'll all have loads more time to goof off without schoolwork."

Remus rolled his eyes. "James, I doubt that we'll be—HEY!" Remus yelped as Sirius splashed him.

"You were getting boring," Sirius mock complained. "Excitement from your new job has worn off and now you're back to being particularly _Moony-like_," he insisted. Remus rolled his eyes.

"I thought you _liked _when I was Moony-like—"

James splashed the two of them. "Now I remember why we have Peter—helps balance out your incessant quarrel—HEY!"

Remus splashed James right back, laughing. Sirius joined in and soon enough the three boys were in all-out warfare with each other. It was happy memories like this that Remus would miss most of all. James and Sirius—and Peter—did join the Order with him. But their time together was limited. Remus would spend months at a time living and breathing werewolf, while his friends generally got to do more of the 'typical' Order work. Remus became close with, of all people, _Mad-Eye_, and could barely tell his friends any bit of what he did—_especially_ Sirius. The agitated young man would fume if Remus had a single _non_-self-inflicted scratch on his body. For their sanity, as well as his own, Remus kept his work a secret.

Of course, there were things they all got to do together in the Order. Remus was at as many meetings as he could reasonably make, and the four boys would try to get together at least one a month for non-Order-related shenanigans. Of course, this couldn't last long—James and Lily eventually had to go into hiding, Pete was generally MIA, and Remus could hardly bear to get out of bed some mornings. The happy, care-free days of their youth gone, the four Marauders were finally growing up

**Hard one to write...**


	19. Defending the Shack

_1975_

* * *

Springtime was Remus' favorite season. Days got longer, nights got shorter, and the fair weather made for the best of weekend excursions with his friends. Like many Hogwarts students, on this particularly lovely Saturday, The Marauders made the trip to Hogsmeade. They always stopped in Honeyduke's first: the boys knew that Hogsmeade could be a rather bittersweet experience for Remus, who had to walk by the Shrieking Shack in order to get anywhere. Chocolate, as they all knew, helped with this. After Mr. Lupin was dragged out by his friends with as much chocolate as he could reasonably afford, they boys all went to Zonko's: a fan favorite. Much of their own pranking abilities stemmed from the store. They either bought supplies (James and Sirius), bought how-to books (Remus) or tagged along and pointed at things that looked interesting—Peter's job.

However, while James and Sirius had a seemingly infinite supply of funds, Remus and Peter could only spend so much time in shops, so the boys always spent the rest of the afternoon walking around and just talking.

"What do you reckon we should do tomorrow?" Sirius pondered, plopping a small piece of chocolate into his mouth.

"Study," Remus prompted. "We've slacked off _all day_ today, we have to get our work done _sometime_—"

"Oh, Moony," James began, rolling his eyes. "You try so hard to make us upstanding citizens. When will you learn that's never going to happen?"

"I've got hope," Remus insisted, unwrapping a little chocolate broomstick to much on. "One of these days you lot will look back and think 'gee, maybe we should've listened to Remus more.'" This caused Sirius to snort.

"Yeah, right. Give it a rest. I say you can read up on how to use the exploding quills we got, Moony, and we'll work on the execution," the floppy-haired boy grinned. Remus rolled his eyes, but had to concede.

"That does sound more fun than reading," he admitted. "You've been a bad influence on me."

"Bad influence?" Peter quipped. "But Moony, half the idea are _yours_—"

"Only from _your _influence!" Remus pouted. "I was a good, mild-mannered boy before I met you people—"

"Mild-mannered?" James asked, brow raised. "You've got a bit of sass, Moony, I _hardly _think you're mild-mannered."

"Well," Remus huffed. "I got sassy _because_ of you people. It's the only way to get your attention," he explained. None of the boys could argue with that—they required a bit more than a firm voice to be subdued. Close to the full moon, it took a great deal of strength for Remus to not think about hexing his friends. Luckily, that day was weeks away: for the time being, Remus felt like a normal teenage boy.

The four continued to walk through Hogsmeade, eating their chocolate, when Remus overheard a group of other fourth-years talking:

_"I say we try it—I mean, what's the harm of going in?"_

_"It's haunted, Randolph—we don't know what's in there—"_

_"—well, I'm going to go—you can come with me but you aren't _stopping_ me."_

The werewolf froze, stopping in his tracks. James and Sirius kept walking, but Peter stayed back: it wasn't like Remus to freeze up like this.

"Remus," Peter whispered, "Are you alright?"

Remus turned to his friend and shook his head. "No—we've got to the Shack. I think Randolph Bones is about to do something stupid."

Missing half of their group, James and Sirius spun around to see a rather bewildered Remus and Peter.

"Eh, Moony, what's got your knickers in a bunch?" Sirius asked, but Peter shot him a look saying something like '_not now_.' The two ringleaders of the group jogged back to their friends.

"Moony," James began, adjusting his spectacles, "What's wrong?"

"I overheard…Randolph Bones and another boy, I think from Ravenclaw, they're…I think they're trying to get into the shack," Remus whispered, concerned. "We have to _stop them_."

Sirius nodded instantly and looked like he was about to run off and find the two nimrods, but James grabbed his arm.

"Remus," James began quietly, "Even if they do get in…what's going to happen? It's not like you're transformed in there _now_," he reasoned. But Remus shook his head.

"They'll know—the shack, it's…I do quite a bit of damage in there. More than a ghost," he pointed out. "And they'll know it's not haunted. And if it isn't _haunted_…"

"Alright, you've convinced me," James stated, putting a hand on Remus' shoulder. "But you've got to think this through: we go up there and make a huge fuss, people ask questions." James smiled. "You've got a great brain, mate. Think: what can we do?"

Remus pursed his lips in thought before his eyes began to twinkle. He had an idea.

"You've got the cloak, yes?" He asked. James nodded—he carried it with him wherever he went. "Good," Remus continued. "Then, we run out behind Honeyduke's, put on the cloak, and position ourselves near the shack. Hidden, we can hex them a bit," Remus said, mischief in his eyes. "They'll _have _to believe it's haunted then."

Sirius grinned, as did James and Peter.

"A chance to hex _and _help our dear Moony?" The boy asked. "I'm game."

Following Remus' plan, the four Marauders snuck out behind Honeyduke's and, sure that no one was watching, slipped on the cloak, walking very carefully so as to not be seen—they were getting bigger and it was harder for them all to hide under the cloak.

"You're stepping on my foot, Peter," Remus grumbled.

"This was easier when we were _eleven_," Peter insisted.

Despite the bickering, the boys managed to remain unseen as they camped out behind a tree in plain sight of the shack. Sure enough, Randolph and some other boy—Sirius claimed his name was 'Stodgy McGit,' but no one believed him—began to approach the shack. Remus felt himself tense up. Not even his own friend knew what the inside looked like: blood, broken furniture, claw marks, an overall stench of death…he couldn't imagine what strangers would think was in there.

"It's alright, Remus," Sirius said, picking up on his friend's touchiness. "No one is getting in there—not even us," he added. "I promise."

"It's your secret," James insisted. "We're just here to help you protect it." Peter nodded, and Remus smiled softly.

"You guys are the best friends—"

"Shh! They're coming!" Sirius whispered. Sure enough, the two boys had begun to get close enough to touch the house. The four boys readied their wands, muttering under their breaths, and sure enough, a variety of different hexes and flashes of light sprung from their wands—most from Remus and Sirius. Randolph felt onto his arse, and 'Stodgy McGit' felt his body tense up as he began to dance uncontrollably. The Marauders did their best to not burst out laughing.

"_Rand_!" 'Stodgy' exclaimed. "I told—"

"It's not _haunted_," Randolph insisted. "These are…someone…" he looked around. There was no one to hex him.

"It's working," James began, "But we need more." Remus narrowed his eyes, stowed his wand, and cupped his hands around his mouth.

"_AWWOOOOOOOO_!" He howled eerily. "_AAAWOOOOOOWOOOOO_!" He cried out again. He saw Randolph's face constrict in fear from a distance, and Remus grabbed his wand once more and flicked it, causing the boy's nose to grow a bit. Sirius chuckled, though James elbowed him to get him to be quiet.

As soon as 'Stodgy's' dancing was done, the two intruders ran as fast as they could away from the shack. As soon as they were gone, the Marauder's ripped off the invisibility cloak.

"Brilliant, Moony," James said, causing the small werewolf to beam. "That was incredible—where'd you learn all that? You too, Sirius?"

Remus shot James a look. "The howling? I would've thought that'd be obvious—"

"Not the _howling_," James said, rolling his eyes. "No, those _hexes_—they're far beyond what we've learned in class—though I don't really pay attention..."

"Oi!" Sirius yelped. "You think anyone is going to teach us those? No, Remus here must be teaching them to himself—right Moony?" Sirius asked, giving the werewolf a meaningful look.

Sirius and Remus both knew why they knew the most hexes out of their friends. They had people to defend themselves against—prejudiced gits, either members of the Black family or those who could find out Remus' secret. They had discussed it in private once—the other boys had been sneaking off to the kitchen.

"Right," Moony said with a smile. "Because unlike you lot, I _read_," he joked. James rolled his eyes.

"Well, you lot will have to teach Peter and me a thing or to. Not that I think we'll need to defend the Shack again, but some of those hexes could come in handy for dealing with a particularly greasy Slytherin," he smiled. Sirius laughed.

"Of course, James. We'll teach you everything we know," he said, nudging Moony.

"Oh yes," Remus began, "But there will be some required reading."

That week in transfiguration class, the boys performed their exploding quill prank—they might have gotten away with it had they not been laughing the whole time. Professor McGonagall, of course, had to give them detention and asked them to stay a moment after class.

"Boys, a word?" She called out. The four Marauders lumbered to the front of the classroom.

"Now, I feel I must give you detention for this little prank," she began, "But I will also be giving Gryffindor ten points—unrelated, of course, but I now expect you all were in Hogsmeade this weekend—Zonko's new stock, yes?"

James grinned. "Ten points, _Minnie_, you can't go around giving people points for going to Hogsmeade!" He exclaimed. McGonagall's lips curled into a thin smile.

"No—but I can reward friendship. I heard Mr. Bones and Mr. McGammon had quite a scare,"  
she said knowingly, looking right at Remus.

"Well," the boy began, smiling a bit. "The Shrieking Shack is _quite_ haunted—I imagine the ghosts were out."

Minerva smiled. "Yes…the ghosts. Well, do tell the _ghosts_ to be at my office at 8PM sharp if they know what's good for them."


	20. Baby Hair and Pillow Fights

_1975_

* * *

"Remus, why do you still have baby hair?"

The young werewolf, who _had _been very comfortably napping in his favorite armchair in the Gryffindor common room, flickered his eyes open. Peter was standing in front of him, eyeing his head strangely.

"Peter," groaned James, who was leaning against the wall by the fireplace. "You woke him up—he's sleepy, you know. Just let him be."

"Well I'm up _now_," Remus grumbled. He had been sleepy—the full moon was only two days ago, and while he had recovered from his injuries rather fantastically this time around, he had still missed a fair amount of sleep. "What do you mean, _baby hair_?"

"Well," Peter squeaked, "It's…wispy."

Sirius, who had been lying in front of the fireplace, snorted.

"_Wispy_? Merlin, Pete, what a _word_…"

"…it's true!" Peter insisted. "It's wispy…and it just sort of falls…I mean, it reminds me of my baby cousin…"

"Peter," James hissed. "You really think Remus wants to be woken up then made fun of by _you_ of all people?"

Peter looked crestfallen. Remus could tell the boy hadn't been meaning to make fun of him, so the young werewolf gave his friend a smile.

"It's alright, Pete. It _is_ a bit like baby hair, isn't it?" He mused, running his fingers through his sandy-brown mane. It was a bit 'wispy' and thin, and while Remus wasn't sure he had ever seen a baby up close, he had to imagine it was similar.

"Well," James began, adjusting his glasses and smirking, "That's just because you're our _itty_ _Remy_."

"Cute little _baby_ Remy," Sirius chortled. Remus rolled his eyes. "So sweet, so _innocen_t—"

"Innocent?" Remus smirked, raising a brow. "Ah, yes, I'm so _very innocent_ aren't I?"

James rolled his eyes. "Well, most of the time, yes. It would make sense that you have baby hair. You're nice and small—"

"—love sweets—"

"—conduct much mischief—"

"Alright," Remus said. "Enough, I get it, though if I'm all baby-like," Remus began, "Why did I find a grey hair the other day?"

Sirius looked aghast.

"Moony—you're younger than I am! You can't be going grey, because that could mean _I_ might be going grey, and if _I'm_ going grey…"

"You're not going grey," Remus assured his friend. "I have to imagine it's stress."

"Stress?" Quipped Peter. "Why are you so stressed?"

James shot the round boy a look. "Really, Pete?" The boy asked. "You can't think of anything that Remus could be a _bit stressed_ about?"

Peter looked like he was deep in thought before his eyes grew wide and his mouth opened into a slight 'oh.' Remus chuckled.

"It's alright Pete…really. The fact that you could forget about all that is quite nice," he admitted. Sirius sighed dramatically, flopping on the ground next to James.

"We've done it now," he began. "Sentimental Moody returns."

"Sentimental," Remus repeated. "I am _not _sentimental—"

"You are the _most_ sentimental person I know!" James exclaimed. "For my twelfth birthday, you got me the only book I've ever read cover to cover: _Quidditch, Through the Ages_. I mentioned _once_ that I thought it would be interesting—and you got it for me!"

Remus rolled his eyes. "That's called thoughtfulness. You hinted that you wanted it, and so I got it for you—it's not that difficult to understand—"

"—but we aren't very thoughtful, Moony," Sirius complained. "Most teenage boys aren't," he reasoned. Remus couldn't argue with that.

"I'm no ordinary teenage boy, Sirius," he said with a rather smug look on his face.

"Oh, bugger off baby-head," the shaggy-haired boy retorted, taking the liberty to grab a pillow from the floor and throw it at Remus. The young werewolf pretended to wince.

"Ouch!" He yelped, grabbing at his arm. Sirius' eyes widened.

"Good going, Sirius," James quipped. "You've _hurt _him."

"Remus, I'm so sorry," Sirius said, getting up off the ground to help his friend. "I forgot, I'm sorry—HEY!"

Remus snickered and took the pillow in his hands, whacking Sirius right in the side of his head.

"Really, James?" Remus asked his friend, grinning. "You think Sirius could hurt me with a pillow? I'm not going to fall apart, you know."

Sirius pouted as he attempted to fix his hair. "I thought I _had_ hurt you, Moony," he said quietly. "That's not funny." Sirius backed away a bit, grabbing the pillow from the floor where it had fallen.

Remus' grin vanished and was replaced with a look of worry as he stood up. "Sirius, I'm sorry, I thought it would be—OW!" He yelped. Sirius snickered—he had hit Remus square in the chest, sending him right back into the cushions of his favorite armchair.

"Two can play at that game, Remus," the boy said laughing. Remus, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, picked up a neighboring pillow and began to chase Sirius around the common room. James rolled his eyes and was about to continue his work when he saw Peter running fingers through his own straw-blond hair.

"Pete," James began, "What's the matter?" The round boy turned to face his friend, his face a bit worried.

"You don't think _I _have baby hair, do you?"

**Short and sweet...figured I would write something uplifting. Let me know what you would like to see in the comments, and thank you all for getting this story above 1,000 visitors!**


	21. Dungbombs and Revelations

_1976_

* * *

Sirius, Peter, and Remus were all lazing about on the couches in the Gryffindor common room—a usual sight on any given afternoon after classes were over. Their fifth year, the Marauders all had this time free, save James, who had decided to take Muggle Studies to impress Lily Evans. He thought that by learning about 'her ancestors,' a he so politely put it, he could 'learn the way to her heart.' None of the other Marauders bothered to tell him how ridiculous this sounded—anything Lily Evans related common sense was no use to James. For the time being, Peter was perched over his transfiguration essay, trying to read through Remus' comments on it with some difficulty. Remus read, and Sirius was experimenting with a dungbomb, eying its rounded form very carefully.

"Careful, Padfoot," Remus chided from behind the book he was reading. "That thing explodes and you'll be cleaning the common room—again."

"Oh, Moony," Sirius sighed. "You think I don't know how to operate these? After _all these years_?"

"Well," Remus began, "You did accidentally set one off last week—"

"—and the week before!" Peter added.

"—and likely the week before that," Remus teased. "So, you'll excuse me for not having the greatest of faith in your abilities to not make a mess."

The shaggy-haired boy scoffed, continuing to play with the dungbomb. "I'm trying to unlock its secrets is all: Oh Mr. Dungbomb," he gushed, "Teach me your ways. How may I unlock your keen ability to cause _so much mayhem_ in a tiny package?"

Remus rolled his eyes and resumed reading his book—_a History of Centaurs in Ireland_, though he was soon to be re-interrupted.

"Remus?" Asked Peter, eyes squinting at the essay beneath him. "What did you mean when you said 'incorrect, according to…_Gramp's Law_?'"

Sirius unsuccessfully stifled a laugh, and Remus shot the boy a look.

"Sirius," the young werewolf began, "It's not Peter's fault…my handwriting _is_ a bit messy. That should say Gamp's Law—you know, of Elemental Transfiguration? You wrote something about conjuring food—"

"A dream of his," Sirius quipped.

"—and that's _firmly_ against the law," Remus continued, still glaring at Sirius. Peter sighed.

"Well, that means the whole thing is wrong, isn't it?" Peter asked sadly. "After all, I wrote my thesis on—"

"REMUS JOHN LUPIN!"

The young werewolf turned his attention away from Peter and towards James, who had burst through the door and into the common room. The boy looked disheveled—more so than usual, and his hair seemed to by flying everywhere as if he had just gotten off from his broom.

"You called, Prongs?" Remus grinned, setting down his book. James rolled his eyes.

"_Called_…How Victorian. Yes of course I _called,_ Moony, because you," he scolded, "Have failed to tell us that you have finally _done it_."

Remus, for a brief moment, had absolutely no idea what James was talking about. Suddenly, it came to his attention that his good friend might be referring to a certain activity from the week prior.

"Oh?" He asked, feigning surprise. It wasn't enough to fool James, who kept his narrowed eyes on Remus.

"Oi, Moony," ventured Sirius, "What have you done _this _time? Trampled through good 'ol Minnie's vegetable garden on a midnight romp?" He teased. The sandy-haired boy rolled his eyes.

"You know very well, Pads, that Professor McGonagall does not have a vegetable garden, and even if she didn't and I ran through it on a so-called 'midnight romp,' it's likely because I was trying to chase your greasy hide out of it," Remus quipped. While Sirius mock-pouted, James cleared his throat.

"Excuse me!" He declared, waving his hands about as he dropped his book bag to the floor. "Doesn't anyone want to know what Moony actually did?"

"I would," Peter squeaked and James smiled.

"Well," he began, "At least Wormtail wants to know."

"I'd also like to know!" Sirius exclaimed, raising his hand in assent. "Do tell, Prongs," he begged. Remus simply rolled his eyes, and James cleared his throat ceremoniously:

"Oh dear Moony has shagged his first lovely lady—and I had to hear it through Evans, of all people!"

"E-Evans?" Peter stuttered. "But Moony, that's—"

"_NOT EVANS_!" James yelped. "Marlene—I mean, he had his hands all over her at his party—"

"Did _not_," Remus retorted, growing a bit red in the face.

"Did _too_," James sustained. "And so, Moony, I have to ask: is it true? Have you truly grown into your manhood?"

"Oh, _please_ Moony," Sirius begged, "_Please_ tell me it's true," he added, grabbing Remus' hand to give it a squeeze. "I promise to never again accidentally explode a dungbomb again if you say yes."

Remus, with a smile rapidly growing over his face, responded simply: "Yes."

Sirius cheered, leaping off the couch.

"HE'S DONE IT!" He shouted, likely loudly enough for anyone from any dormitory to hear. "Oh, sweet, _sweet _Merlin's Beard, he's done it at last!"

Remus chortled. "I suppose I have," he mused. "It was quite nice, actually—I think I'd like to do it again."

James rolled his eyes so strongly that they looked like they would pop out of his head.

"Well of course you do," he reasoned. "You're 16 and a man. I'd be shocked if you didn't," he insisted, grinning. "We're very proud of you mate—_even_ if we did have to hear through _Evans_."

"Good job, Remus," Peter smiled, leaving his essay on the ground.

"Thank you, Peter," Remus beamed.

"So," Sirius inquired, "What is everything you dreamed of? Tell us all about it, Moony, we long to—"

"Sirius," Remus began, a look of fear plastered on his face, "Look where you're stepping—"

_BOOM!_

Sirius, in his excitement, had stepped on the dungbomb he had been playing with earlier. In his excitement over Moony's 'transition to adulthood,' the object of his desires had rolled onto the ground.

"I'll get a mop."


	22. The Prank War Begins

_1973_

* * *

"Hey, Snivellus!"

Sirius Black whipped out his wand and flicked it to tie the laces of the Slytherin's shoes together. Before Severus could look back and see his tormentors, he was already tumbling forward onto the stone hall of Hogwarts. James laughed behind his shaggy-haired friend.

"Nice one, Sirius," he grinned, adjusting his glasses. "Did you have a nice trip, you greasy git?"

"Come on, James," Remus rolled his eyes. "Don't kick a man when he's already down—we'll ask when we see him next _fall_," he joked.

Peter, the last of the group, stood behind the young werewolf. "See ya later, Snivellus!"

The Marauders were in particularly splendid moods that Saturday afternoon. Classes were over for the time being, they had at least three and a half weeks before they lost Remus to the full moon again. As third years, they were also allowed to go to Hogsmeade. It was a perfect storm of happiness: gags and goodies from Zonko's to conduct their pranks and nefarious activities, and chocolate and candies from Honeyduke's. Severus Snape just happened to be caught in the cross-hairs of this joy, as one of the boys' most famous pastimes seemed to be tormenting him. Naturally, while in either tremendously good or bad moods, the Marauders could be particularly nasty.

Snape looked on as the boys rushed by him, others laughing and pointing at his misfortune. They wouldn't get away with this, the young Slytherin decided. And he knew just how to hit them where it would hurt the most.

* * *

After a few hours and many, _many_ chocolates, the Marauders returned to their common room snickering about the little prank they had played on the snooping boys by the Shack, as well as grinning over their latest purchases.

"Say, James?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"Think we'll be using those Whizzing Worms anytime soon?"

Sirius grinned. "As long as we get to use the Frogspawn soap along with. I think both would be excellent additions to the girl's lavatory."

"Actually," Remus said with a smile, "I had been thinking the _prefect's bathroom_—Myrtle could surely help us get in, and with the large bath…"

"Moony, you _genius_," Sirius beamed. "Why didn't _I_ think of that?"

"Likely because most of _your_ brain cells go to keeping that unruly mop hair on top of your head," James joked.

The four continued planning their next prank all the way into their dormitory, where all four boys then froze and stared ahead of them at the ruins of their room. A window was shattered, bedding and pillows absolutely destroyed. Books were on the floor, under the beds, pages torn out and scattered every which way. Gryffindor pennants, which had hung pristinely on the walls, thanks to Remus' sticking charm, were slashed and had fallen to the side. In short, it looked like a tornado had been through the room.

"What in Merlin's name…" James drifted off. Remus was already rushing into the room.

"My _notes_!" He yelped, frantically searching the ground. "All of my notes, my _books_…"

"Your _notes_?" Sirius bellowed. "My pennants! My posters! My…" He looked down at the floor beneath him to see a broken comb. "My _hair_…"

"My _broom_!" James shrieked. It had been tossed into a corner handle broken off. "My precious broom!" The boy ran to his prized possession and began cradling it in his arms.

Peter stood still. "Mates," he began slowly, "Look over there…"

The round boy pointed to a message painted on the wall. All four boys turned as Peter read the message aloud.

"_Thanks for the trip, and here's a tip: don't MESS with me."_

All four boys looked at each other and spoke in unison:

"That _git_!"

"Oh, he's going to _get_ it," James bristled. Sirius picked up his comb, breaking it further in his hands.

"He's going to _more_ than get it—next time I see him he won't know what's—"

"Lads," Remus sighed. "We can't just go about blatantly attacking him: we'll get in trouble. We need to…" the young werewolf drifted off as he saw, on his bed, the shredded remains of his transfiguration essay. His eyes narrowed as he stomped over to pick up a strand of paper from his pillow. "I spent _weeks _on this…my final essay, the one due the day after the moon…I won't have time to write a new one. I can't…"

James, Sirius, and Peter watched in astonishment at what came next. They had never seen Remus so angry in his entire life. His amber eyes flashed with a sort of menace they had only heard about: the boy looked positively wolfish.

"_This is war_," Remus snapped. "Let's take stock: we've got the soap, the worms, how many dungbombs, Sirius?"

"At least five," the usually loud boy squeaked.

"Excellent," Remus snarled. "Alright, here's what we'll do…"

The four Marauders huddled around their brainy friend as he began laying out the plans for the next prank.

"Screw the prefect's bathroom—we're going to the _dungeon_, boys," Remus said with a rather crazed look on his face. He told them all about setting worms and frogs into the Slytherin common room, dungbombs timed to go off every five minutes and hidden in various corners where no one could find them.

"We've got Arnold's Magic Glue," James suggested, and Remus flashed him a devilish smile.

"Good," he replied. "Perfect for the floors—imagine _Snivellus_ and his greasy friends—if he _has_ any—unable to get out of their stinking cell."

James and Sirius exchanged looks. Peter trembled somewhat.

"Is there a problem?" Remus questioned, sounding a bit meaner than he intended. James shook his head.

"No, mate, it's just…"

"Why aren't you like this _all the time_?" Sirius blurted out. "I mean, you've got loads to be angry about, more than us on any given day, why…why _now_? I mean, we're all mad, but you…you seem particularly upset."

Remus blinked a few times and stared at his friends, shoulders dropping. "I'm always angry," he admitted. "At least a _bit_. Only now…"

"It's because it's affected school," Sirius said quietly. James rolled his eyes, expecting some witty remark from Remus, but the boy merely nodded.

"School is important to me. It's…it's all I've got to be different…" He gulped, looking down at his feet. "Different from the _other ones_. The ones who kill, who maim for _fun_—"

"You will _never_ be like them," James said sternly, grabbing Remus by the shoulders and forcing the boy to look into his bespectacled eyes. "School or no school, you are different. You are _Remus_."

"Exactly," Sirius huffed. "You've got loads making yourself different. But if you care all that much about school, then this is war."

Peter nodded, crossing his arms. "That greasy git's gonna regret ever messing with Moony's schoolwork. You mess with one Marauder—"

"—you mess with all of us," James finished.

Remus looked at his friends, giving them a small smile. "Well, then? What are we waiting for?"

"Let's get him," Sirius sniggered. "Let's get him _good_."


	23. The First Train Ride

_1971_

* * *

Remus had gotten on the Hogwarts Express early, before almost anyone else. It had been nerves more than anything that caused him to kiss and hug his parents in a hurry to make sure he got a spot, for Remus had been incredibly nervous all day that something would go wrong and he wouldn't get to go to Hogwarts after all. First, he thought that perhaps the traffic would cause the Lupin family to be late—and, missing the train, Dumbledore would rescind the offer to let Remus attend school that year. Or maybe, Remus pondered, the brick gateway to platform 9 and ¾ would refuse to let him through, on account of his being a werewolf. As much as his parents had assured him these events would not come to pass, Remus had only partially believed them. To the young boy, until he was physically in the castle, this whole experience felt more like a pipe dream.

Of course, being early had its advantages. Remus had found an entirely empty compartment, where he could settle down in peace and quiet. He was utterly exhausted, the full moon having been just two nights prior, and while he had managed to come away relatively unscathed, his bones still ached. He had also lost an entire night's sleep, which always took some time to recover from. He was hoping to curl up and maybe read a book or sleep on the train ride and was already taking his first steps to achieving this, as _The Hobbit _rested firmly in Remus' grip_. _Little did he know, such opportunity to read or rest would never present itself—not that first ride, nor any others while he was a student.

"Hullo!"

Remus, who had sat down only moments before, looked up to see a boy with shaggy dark hair and a wild grin. His eyes were grey and sparkling with what Remus at the time could only describe as _trouble_. Overall, the young werewolf got the impression that this boy looked like he would be a handful, and far too spirited. Remus, who had grown up admiring calm above all else, grew concerned. No, he thought, this would not be someone he should get close to.

"Hi," the young werewolf answered back meekly. The boy who initiated the conversation rolled his eyes, stepping into the compartment from the corridor with a snort.

"Well, _you're_ talkative. I'm Sirius. Sirius Black. Nice to meet you," introduced the boy—Sirius. He stuck his hand out, and Remus nervously shook it.

"Remus," he replied quietly. "Remus Lupin."

"Oh, so you _do_ know how to say more than one word! Good, I thought I was going to have to teach you English," Sirius joked. Remus narrowed his eyes, and was about to flip open his book and ignore his newfound classmate when—

"Hey, this compartment full yet?"

Another boy had entered in from the corridor—without asking, Remus noticed. He thought it odd that neither of the two boys seemed to knock or in any other way announce themselves prior to coming in. Did he know them from some other time or place? Remus didn't think so. He wasn't acquainted with anyone. So why, of all compartments, they had chosen _his_, Remus would never know. Even after he had known them long enough to ask.

"Well, unless you count me and this one as being _full_," Sirius motioned, "no, but good luck getting Lupin here to speak. I'm Sirius, by the way," he grinned. "Sirius Black."

The newcomer's eyes widened, and he adjusted his glasses as he puffed out his chest. Sirius it seemed was tying to mirror the boy, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat. Remus had to try not to roll his eyes, through he couldn't help but think how silly the newcomer looked. Trying his hardest to look important when his hair looked like it had been groomed by a tornado, neither he nor Sirius made Remus feel the slightest bit intimidated.

"Black, huh? Well, I'm James _Potter_," the new boy responded.

"My family says yours are blood traitors," Sirius quipped, which caused Remus to recoil a bit. If this boy cared about blood status, it would suit him to stay as far away as possible. Then, Sirius did something Remus hadn't expected: he began laughing.

"Is that funny to you?" James asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Sirius shook his head, hair tumbling around like a lion's mane.

"Well, it might be to my mum: I personally would _love _to turn into a blood traitor, like you Potters. Think you could teach me a thing or two?" Sirius smirked. James returned the look, fully inside the compartment now as he took his seat.

"Gladly," he responded. "Seems you're a better sort than the rest of your family. And you," James asked, looking directly at Remus now. "You're been watching us, quiet one. What's your name?"

Remus lowered his book and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, Sirius seemed to take over.

"That's Remus Lupin," he explained. "He doesn't say anything, so I've been teaching him a thing or two—"

"—I do _too_ speak," Remus huffed, glaring at Sirius before turning to James, a bit on edge. He was, after all, sleep-deprived and in a fair amount of pain. "It's nice to meet you," he added.

James chuckled, sticking out a hand for Remus to shake, which the werewolf did—careful not to let his sleeve fall down his arm and expose any of his scars.

"Well, pleasure to meet you Remus. Glad you can talk—looks like our fellow compartment mate's got a bit of a mouth. I might need you to back me up on a thing or two," he grinned. Remus got the feeling that he liked this James Potter. There was something about him that was instantly likeable, as if you'd already been his friend before you even met.

Sirius looked like he was going to interrupt when a small, blond-haired boy knocked on the compartment door. Remus smiled—at least someone had manners.

"H-hello?" The new boy asked. "Do you guys mind if I sit with you?"

Sirius flashed James a look, which Remus caught, but James hadn't paid any attention—either on purpose, or by virtue of being too caught up in himself.

"No, don't mind at all! There's a spot next to Remus here," James motioned, and said newcomer flashed Remus a small smile, which the werewolf returned easily. James continued speaking:

"I'm James, James Potter. This next to me is Sirius Black—already on his way to becoming a blood traitor, so don't you worry—and of course that's Lupin. And you are…?"

"Peter," the small boy responded, looking around the compartment. "Peter Pettigrew."

"Well, Peter!" James exclaimed. "Pleasure to meet you. Looks like we've got ourselves a full compartment now, yeah?"

Remus smiled—James' grin was absolutely contagious, and it spread to the other boys as well. He decided to put away his book into his satchel, as it didn't look like much rest was going to happen at all in a compartment of four boys.

"So, what year are you all?" Sirius asked, looking down at his nails. "First years, like me?"

"Typical," James rolled his eyes. "You think everyone is a first year because _you_ are?"

"That's _not_ what I said," countered Sirius. "I just assumed, since none of us were sitting with anyone before—"

"—I'm a first year," Remus interjected, unsure of how he found his voice. This was his first time really interacting with anyone his own age, much less two loud and clearly opinionated boys—and Peter. Sirius' arms flew up and he gave James a sort of '_you see_' look, which James did not seem to take well.

"I'm a first year too," James huffed, "but that doesn't mean Peter over here is—"

"—actually," Peter spoke up, raising his hand as if in class, "I'm a first year as well."

Sirius looked rather pleased with himself, and Remus tried his best not to chuckle. He didn't want to get on James' bad side—not after the boy suggested Remus as his back-up. The young werewolf had never been anyone's back-up before in any occasion. It felt like the beginning of a friendship—something Remus was as deathly scared of as he was excited to potentially have.

"Alright, fine," James conceded. "We're all first years. Where does everyone think they'll end up?"

"Slytherin, most likely," Sirius pouted, arms crossed. "Whole family's been there. Not that I want to join them, but I think the hat'll take one look at me and off I go."

"Well," James chided, "that's not going to do—not if you're going to be a proper blood traitor like you say. You'll have to join me in Gryffindor—where I expect you lot to be as well," he insisted. "It's where the brave of heart are all placed, and I'll need brave friends to help me carry out all my pranks."

"I'd like to be in Gryffindor," Peter said a bit softly. "But I'm not sure—I just don't know if I have what it takes."

Neither James or Sirius said anything to counter that, so Remus turned to the smaller boy next to him.

"That's alright, Peter. I think just coming in here and introducing yourself to these lot," he joked, pointing across the compartment, "was brave, but you can always go somewhere else." Remus turned to face James and Sirius—the former of which was grinning, the latter still pouting. "My dad was in Ravenclaw, so I might end up there. But Gryffindor sounds nice too—I really don't have a preference." _Well, maybe not Slytherin, _Remus thought to himself.

"Great," Sirius groaned. "Then you all will end up together, and I'll be whisked off to—"

"—you'll get whisked off to _nowhere _before you go somewhere you seem to hate to much," James insisted. "My dad," he beamed, "says that the Sorting Hat puts you exactly where you belong. It reads your mind, or the future, or something. Knows everything about you."

Remus froze suddenly. Everything? This hat, this weird thing called a 'sorting hat' would know _everything_ about him? This wasn't a part of his plan—his parents and Dumbledore has been quite insistent that _no one _find out what he was, hat included. What if it told everyone his secrets? Or, what if it judged him for being a werewolf? Would he end up in Slytherin—a house known for producing particularly darkly-inclined witches and wizards—since he was a dark creature himself?

"Remus, you alright?" James asked from across him. This shook the sandy-haired boy from his thoughts.

"Yeah, just a bit tired," Remus replied, not exactly lying. This seemed to placate James, who nodded.

"Well, you better wake up soon—the train is about to leave, and then we'll get to _Hogwarts_!"

Remus returned James' smile, though it was a bit weaker than that of the bespectacled boy. Still, sorting hats aside, Remus was excited to go to Hogwarts—a place he never thought he would be able to go. And for now, it seemed, he had made a few acquaintances. Maybe, in time, they would even become his friends, Remus thought to himself. _At least, _he added morosely, _until they find out what you are. _


End file.
